Days Without Sun
by Cerberus Revised
Summary: Misaki is kidnapped by scientist/serial killer, Vladamir Korovin, while in South America with Akihiko. What lengths will Akihiko go to to get him back? The prequel for those fans who wanted the Uke Flu backstory. A dark thriller, rated "M" for Violence and Adult Situations.
1. Darkness

**Summary: **So, this is for those fans who wanted "The Uke Flu" back story. This is what happened to Misaki when he was captured by the mad scientist/sadist, Vladimir Korovin, in South America.

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><p><strong>0220/13**

**So this is a reposting of this fic in conjunction with the Uke Flu, since this is the Flu's prequel. **

**I moved it to YFF when FF began enforcing its no MA content rule in the summer of 2012. Due to popular demand I am returning it here and hope that it will evade future purges.  
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**This fic contains kidnapping, torture, and non-consensual sexual situations. However, I have tried not to be too graphic. While I certainly do not put myself on par with these authors, I do not see this story as differing too much from say a work of someone like Stephen King or Thomas Harris.**** Given the dark nature of this piece, if you have an issue with the content or are not of a suitable age please click out of this fic now. **

**I humbly request that if you take offense at my work that you please PM me rather than report this to FF, so that those who enjoy reading work like this may continue to do so.**

**Many thanks to all who asked to get this fic back and for your patience.  
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**Sincerely,**

**Cerberus**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of its characters<strong>

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><p><strong>Days Without Sun<strong>

**Chapter One: Darkness  
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><p>Misaki swam back up into consciousness. Returning to the surface of sensibility, he gasped and tried to draw a deep breath, but the movement of his chest was constricted. Drowning in panic, he fought to compose himself, mind reeling as he frantically sought to get a grasp on his situation.<p>

_Calm down!_ he ordered himself, not that this helped much: his heart was pounding so hard he thought it might crack his ribs.

Misaki continued struggling to breathe; it took him a few moments to realize that the reason he was having difficulty expanding his chest was because it was bound, and that he could only draw breath through his nose as his mouth was duct-taped.

The next thing he realized was that he could not see, even though his eyes were wide open. Complete darkness enveloped him, and this, as much as anything else, terrified him.

Hot tears filled Misaki's eyes, only making him panic all the more. If he started crying his nose would become further obstructed and then he really might find himself completely unable to breathe. Still, his head ached so fiercely this alone would have been enough to elicit tears, even without the added terror.

_What happened... Where am I?_

Misaki grappled with this question, though the movement of every thought through his mind pained him. He tried vainly to still his thoughts by focusing in on the physical sensations available .

Running through what he could ascertain he understood that his head was killing him and he was tied up and lying on a hard concrete floor.

As the implications of the situation hit him, his guts clenched at the possibility that he might have been assaulted when he was passed out. After a moment of this new terror, Misaki realized he still had his clothes on and outside the agony of his head and the burn of his stiff muscles; he couldn't feel any other injuries. This offered him some small reassurance.

Not a lot, but enough he was able to still himself suitably to start remembering.

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><p>He and Usagi-san were in South America on the coast of Brazil. They had supposedly come initially for a writing conference Aikawa-san had wanted Usagi-san to attend. Usagi-san hadn't wished to leave Tokyo and probably wouldn't have, except that there had been that terrible incident with Takahiro.<p>

_Nii-chan,_ Misaki thought miserably. Tears threatened to overtake his eyes once again.

This feeling of sorrow for his beloved sibling was not new: he had known it ever since the day Takahiro had found out about him and Usagi-san.

Misaki's heart still ached when he recalled his brother's face when he and Usagi-san revealed the truth of their love and Takahiro finally understood. No less painful was Usagi-san's expression when his nii-chan responded to it, calling Usagi-san such awful things.

Then Takahiro grabbed his arm and tried to physically remove him from Usagi-san's apartment. It was the only time in his life Misaki could ever remember not obeying his older brother.

"I won't go, Nii-chan!" When he'd said this, Misaki's heart had been pounding almost as furiously as it was now. "You have your life with Manami-nee-san now and mine is with Usagi-san. I… I love him."

Misaki still recalled the sting of the slap that had followed his declaration, but even more so, the pain in his older brother's eyes when his nii-chan realized what he'd just done. In their whole life together, Takahiro had never once laid his hand on him in any way that was not kind or comforting. Usagi-san had moved in immediately to take up his defense, just as shocked by Takahior's reaction. But Takahiro had dropped Misaki's arm after striking and with a look of horror in his eyes fled the apartment.

For days after this awful event, Misaki tried to contact his brother with no response. Usagi-san had felt terribly about the whole ordeal, causing the brothers he loved so much such problems. At one point he even tried to get Misaki to leave him.

"Do you seriously want me to go, Usagi-san?" Misaki had said through his tears. "You once said you would lock me away rather than have me leave you. Do you not feel that way anymore?"

"No, Misaki, of course not. I love you. But I don't want to cost you your family." They had been lying on the couch together: Usagi-san behind him; long fingers stroking unruly, dark hair.

"But you're my family now, Usagi-san," Misaki rolled over to look at Usagi-san and had been overwhelmed by the love he'd seen in his big rabbit's eyes.

That had been the end of their discussion about him leaving.

When Takahiro finally called days later, he wanted Misaki was to leave Akihiko and come and live with him and Manami. Otherwise, Takahiro threatened to go to the authorities about Akihiko's activities. He was convinced that even if there were no criminal actions taken, there would undoubtedly be a scandal that would affect Usagi-san's reputation.

Akihiko had been with Misaki when he received the call and overheard Takahiro's words.

Eight hours later they were on a flight out of the country.

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><p>They had been in Brazil for three weeks now, the conference long-over. Usagi-san told Aikawa that he found the change of scene conducive to his writing. He had informed Aikawa recently, in fact, that he had no idea when they might return. As long as he was faithful with their conference calls and e-mailing her his work, however, Aikawa said she didn't have an issue with her author's travels.<p>

When they'd first started talking about staying out of Japan for a while, Usagi-san had been concerned about him missing his college classes, but Misaki really didn't mind. He had never liked school that much and there was so much to see in Brazil. It was an amazing country.

Plus, the condo Usagi-san rented was near the beach and Misaki loved spending his days there. He'd even been learning to surf and was surprised to find, despite how clumsy he normally felt, that he really had an aptitude for it.

Yes, there had been all sorts of distractions to try and keep his mind off the silence that followed since that last phone call from his nii-chan.

As far as Misaki knew, his brother had done nothing once he realized that he and Usagi-san had left Japan. Both he and Usagi-san had tried multiple times to contact Takahiro since, Manami-nee-san as well, without any response from either.

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><p>These recollections only added to Misaki's present pain.<p>

_Thinking like this is never going to help me figure out what's going on here_. Hoping to distract himself from such troublesome thoughts, Misaki tried to stretch himself out.

This effort jarred his head and instantly sent his muscles screaming. He wondered how long he had been unconscious and lying in one position to get so stiff. Misaki attempted to sit up, but the moment he tried, his temples throbbed so badly he thought he might pass out. A wave of nausea swept over him and his stomach lurched. Immediately he lay back down, praying he didn't vomit. Not with his mouth secured as it was.

As the sense of sickness passed, Misaki found himself trying to recall how he ended up here, now, wherever this was.

Tracing back his memories he remembered he had gone with Usagi-san to the beach today...

_If it still is today. _He had no notion of how long he'd been out.

Misaki felt a warm flush fill his body despite the horror of his situation, remembering how Usagi-san had commented that morning on how much their new environment seemed to agree with him. Usagi-san noted this in no uncertain terms as they sat together under their rented umbrella: waxing sappily poetic about how the sun had bronzed him and the surfing refined his previously unresolved physique.

Then a call from Aikawa came in on Usagi-san's cell and he discovered he needed to go back to the resort to access his laptop.

_I'd finally convinced him to leave it behind that morning; Usagi-san had been working so hard lately._

It was amazing how much more relaxed Usagi-san had been in Brazil: the anonymity of their new environment and the fact there was no chance of Misaki running into any other Usamis had significantly tempered his possessiveness.

Under the shaded shelter of their umbrella, Usagi-san had kissed him sweetly and told him to have fun and surf some more, assuring him that he didn't need to come with him.

_I promised him after catching a few more waves, I'd go back up to the condo and make him make lunch. Usagi and his silly octopi sausages..._

Misaki remembered now! He had been on his way home to do just that, after returning his rented board, when he saw another foreigner on the sidewalk ahead of him looking terribly lost and out of place.

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><p>The man had been older, perhaps early forties, tall and lanky in a muscular way, like Usagi-san. Though his hair was blond and cropped short and his eyes an icy blue, there was an air about him that reminded Misaki in some way of Usagi-san's older brother, Haruhiko.<p>

The man looked up from the map he was contemplating and they'd made eye contact. Moving towards him then the blond had asked asked him a question.

Misaki was used to this sort of thing by now. He had an approachable face it seemed, so no matter where it was he went, people always would pick him out of a crowd to ask directions of or answer a question, which was just what the man did, in Portuguese.

Shrugging his shoulders he'd said in his terrible accent, "Sorry, I don't speak Portuguese. I speak Japanese and some English." This, a few surfing terms, and asking where the bathroom was, currently made up the contents of his Portuguese vocabulary.

Misaki understood when the man then questioned him in English, but he was very conscious of how heavy his accent was in English too and it embarrassed him. So he offered an apologetic, "I only really speak Japanese." He'd been stunned to see the man break into a relieved smile and then ask him in Japanese, with just a slight accent himslef, if he knew the way to the same resort where he and Usagi-san were staying.

Delighted to find not only that he could help the man, which always made him feel good, but that he had someone besides his big rabbit he could share an easy conversation with he had answered easily.

"Ah, I am staying there too and was just on my way back from the beach. Would you like to walk with me?"

They had walked together amicably a ways, exchanging pleasantries, when the man had suddenly stumbled and fallen into him.

Reached out to support the stranger, he'd drawn back when something suddenly jabbed him sharply. The tall blond had begun apologizing profusely, pointing to a broken clasp on his shoulder bag that looked quite sharp. Misaki had told the man not to worry. Vladimir Korovin, or "Vlad," as he had introduced himself (Misaki thought the informality of other foreigners so strange) seemed terribly embarrassed. After offering his own name, Misaki had done his best to assure Korovin-san that no harm had been done.

They had continued to walk together, but within moments, he'd suddenly started feeling unwell. After another minute, he had staggered himself, putting out a hand to catch the side of the parked white van they were passing as they walked along the sidewalk for support. Misaki had heard Korovin-san call his name with concern and felt a strong arm suddenly around his waist as things turned black.

Misaki realized now that this was the end of his recall.

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><p>He started when a sound in the darkness suddenly broke through his musings.<p>

"Close your eyes, Takahashi," a disembodied voice suddenly said.

Misaki didn't comply until the lights suddenly came on and he had to shut them, as the brightness after such total darkness hurt his eyes and sent a new jolt of pain piercing through his aching skull.

He heard a door scrape open and felt rough hands were on him. Despite the pain it caused his head, he tried to wriggle out of their grasp, but it was to no avail. He found himself quickly and efficiently blindfolded.

A large hand grasped the edge of the tape on his mouth and gave a sharp yank. At the sting of the tape pulling off of his tender skin, Misaki yelped. He was suddenly glad he had so little facial hair, and then was struck by what a strange this thought was to have in the midst of this terrible ordeal.

As soon as his mouth was freed, he began taking in large gulps of air, as much as he was able, given his chest's constriction.

"What…" Suddenly Misaki felt a razor sharp edge of steel pressed lightly against the base of his jaw.

"Be quiet," the cold voice ordered. "You will only speak when spoken to. That is the second most important rule, do you understand?"

Misaki felt his testicles suddenly draw up and a black flower of fear bloomed in his belly. He recognized the voice immediately as belonging to the blond foreigner he had been walking with.

Another jab pierced the flesh of his bicep.

He wanted to struggle, but found after a few moments Misaki found he could not move at all, all voluntary muscle control seemed lost.

The blade left his throat and he felt it go to work on his bindings. His terror increased when once the ropes were gone, he felt the honed steel slip between his flesh and his clothes. Misaki had never thought the sound of tearing cloth could sound so sinister.

Tears flowed freely, soaking the blindfold, as he felt each article of his already beach-scant clothing peeled away from him. Misaki found that he could not make his tongue work, so he couldn't have articulated a verbal protest even if he wanted to. Guttural sounds emerged from his throat as his terror increased in direct ratio to nakedness.

His whole body flushed when Vladimir Korovin's spoke again, his tone shifted from its beachside warmth and now quite cold.

"You make such lovely sounds even incapacitated, Taka-chan, I can't wait to see how I can make you sing once we start playing in earnest."

Misaki tried to be silent after this and was successful, if he disregarded the occasional sob that broke through.

"Trying to be brave now?" Korovin sounded disappointed. "I can tell you right now, Taka-chan, that's a waste of energy, and with what I have planned for you, you're going to need to save all the energy that you can."

If he had been able to, Misaki would have shuddered, as a clammy hand rubbed over the sweating contours of his body.

_His hand is so different than Usagi-san's. _It was tepid, clumsy, and calloused where Usagi-san's was cool, skilled and smooth.

Misaki choked at the thought of how frantic Usagi-san would be when he realized he was missing. A long, low moan escaped his throat.

Whether it was in response to this sound or for some other reason, Misaki didn't care, but Korovin's hand finally stopped its detested caresses. His own hands were then pulled out and joined and a stiff plastic tie cinched around them, binding them together. Strong arms slipped under his shoulders and knees and Misaki felt himself lifted and then set down on a low bunk. Even as thin as the mattress was, it soothed his aching limbs after lying so long on the cold concrete floor.

Another jab pierced his hip.

Korovin's voice was less harsh now, but no less evil sounding. "That will help your head, Taka-chan, and make you relax a bit as you settle into your new home."

In his blindness, Misaki's senses were already adjusting. He could feel his abductor move away from him and though Korovin was quite stealthy, Misaki knew in a matter of moments that he was now standing by the cell door.

"In another ten minutes, you should be able to move again and you can take the blindfold off then if you want to. It really won't matter one way or the other though, because the room will be completely dark again. There is a cup with some water at the head of your bunk, a toilet two feet past that," Korovin's cool voice instructed.

Misaki heard the door scrape open again and the man move through it. Before he shut the door though, Korovin paused.

"I'll be back later after you've recovered a bit so that you and I can get better acquainted.

In the meantime, be aware I have night vision cameras installed in this room, Takahashi, so that I can observe every move that you make. And just so you know right from the start here… While rule number two is don't speak unless spoke to. Rule number one is don't even think about trying to escape."

Misaki felt his body begin to return to him as he twitched in response when his abductor suddenly barked a cruel laugh.

"There are other rules of course," Korovin chuckled more softly now. "But you and I will have plenty of time together later for me to instruct you in them." With that the door closed and the light turned out again, leaving Misaki alone in the pitch black darkness.

Well, he wasn't entirely alone: he had his thoughts of Usagi-san and his terror for company.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and please review. Your feedback is appreciated!<strong>


	2. Vanished

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Two: Vanished**

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><p>Akihiko was pacing the apartment. It had been just over twenty-four hours since Misaki had gone missing and the police had been no fucking help at all.<p>

For the first time perhaps, Akihiko fully understood that despite his complicated family dynamics, he had been blessed with rare privilege too. It was terrible being in another country where the Usami name held no power. Here, he was just another rich, queer, tourist whose "boy toy" had probably hooked up with some other young guy to go party for a while.

At least this was certainly the impression he'd gotten from the authorities. Of course, it didn't help that he'd pissed them off by trying to bribe them for speedier by this, the police had coldly advised him to come back if Misaki didn't show up after forty-eight hours. Only then they would help him file a missing person's report.

Akihiko looked down contemplatively at the cigarette in his hand. The other one he ran through his thick silver hair. He had smoked so many fags since this morning he'd lost count. His body hummed with worry and nicotine.

In his mind Akihiko could hear his young lover reprimanding him for such excess.

_How many times has Misaki begged me to stop smoking?_ He made a promise in that moment that if Misaki was returned to him that he would quit without hesitation.

_Ah, Misaki... Where are you?_ For a man who never cried, Akihiko's eyes felt precariously wet.

Looking at his cell phone again, Akihiko told himself it was just to check the time, but to be honest, in the last twenty-four hours he'd developed a nervous tic, flipping his phone open every five minutes to make sure it was still functioning.

The private investigator the police had reluctantly recommended when he had become all but unmanageable should be arriving anytime now. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when a sudden knock at the door broke into his thoughts.

"It's about bloody god damn time," Akihiko muttered, realizing as he said this that the knock was actually ten minutes early.

He opened the door to find a handsome, caramel-skinned man in his mid-thirties, wearing crisp but casual attire standing in the hallway.

"Akihiko Usami?" The man's English was heavily accented but at least understandable.

Akihiko nodded.

"I am Augusto Santo Justino, Private Investigator."

Akihiko invited the P.I. in with a sweep of a broad hand.

"Quite a place," Augusto stepped into the entry. This was the length of his informal courtesy it seemed, since he got right down to business with his next words.

"So how long has your uh…"

"Partner."

Akihiko's eyes narrowed, challenging the detective. He had already spoken with Santo Justino on the phone once when he described his situation but here, in person, he felt better able to truly read the man.

"Is our sexuality going to be an issue for you?"

Santo Justino shook his head. "No, Sir. It's not."

"Good." Akihiko issued a soft sigh of relief seeing truth in the detective's eyes. He also liked the simplicity of the Santo Justino's speech, it spoke of efficiency.

"So how long has your partner…" Augusto flipped open a small notebook he'd pulled from his pocket and studied it. "Misaki Takahashi been missing?"

Akihiko motioned them over to the living room. He took a seat on the couch while Augusto perched himself in a nearby chair.

"I left him at the beach yesterday at about ten thirty to come back here. My laptop was on the desk and I needed to send some documents to my editor." Akihiko stubbed his cigarette into a full ashtray on one of the end tables and took a new one from the pack in his breast pocket.

"Misaki was supposed to be back here at the condo shortly after noon to make lunch. When he didn't show up I began trying to call him. He never answered."

"You tried to call him? That means he has a cell phone." Augusto took a pack of his own cigarettes from his pocket. He raised his eyebrows at Akihiko in question. It was the author's place after all, and just because Usami smoked, he wasn't going to make any assumptions.

Akihiko nodded giving Santo Justino permission to light up. Based on the detective's careful conduct, he was forming a good impression of the man so far.

"Yes, I have called numerous numbers and providers but so far no one is willing to track the GPS in Misaki's phone."

Augusto's eyebrows rose. He lit his cigarette and puffed pensively. That Usami had thought of this showed him that guy had some intelligence.

"I know someone who can help with that. If you'll give me Mr. Takahashi's number; I'll call my contact right now."

Augusto took down the information Akihiko gave him and then stood and paced the apartment. After a ten minute conversation in rapid Portuguese, he flipped his phone shut and returned to his seat by his new client.

"Okay, Mr. Usami, he'll get back to me as soon as he has something and I'll get on it."

"Good and just so you know, Mr. Santo Justino, I have called for another detective who works for my family." Akihiko measured the other man's reaction. "He is flying in from Japan but couldn't get in until tomorrow."

"Mr. Usami, please call me Augusto. I am pleased to see you certainly haven't seemed to waste any time." Santo Justino cocked his head slightly and looked at Akihiko intently."I don't mean any disrespect, Sir, but are you sure he isn't just off sight-seeing or something?"

Lavender eyes bored into the detective. "When it comes to having meals together Misaki is very punctual." Akihiko lit the new cigarette and took a deep pull on it. "Nor is he one to wander, especially in a strange country where he doesn't speak the language. To be completely honest, since we've been here, we have rarely been apart. "

Augusto considered the way that Usami said this. Despite the author's calm tone it was obvious to him that the man was completely distraught.

"Do you have a picture?"

Akihiko had countless pictures of Misaki. Many of them taken with his cell phone when Misaki was in his more vulnerable moments and without the boy's permission (just after sex was a favorite, though Akihiko had a few taken during as well).

The third time he had followed Misaki's path from the beach, before starting his search again he had pulled up a picture that he'd previously downloaded on his computer (one that was of a more appropriate nature) and had printed out copies to give to the various vendors along the way, offering a hefty reward if they helped him locate Misaki.

Akihiko stood and went over to the kitchen table and picked up a copy from the most recent batch of pictures he'd printed.

"Cute kid," Santo Justino observed studying the picture. Misaki was smiling, his dark brown hair tousled, green eyes shining with the particular innocence that he had. Glancing up at Akihiko, Santo Justino couldn't help but add, "he looks awfully young."

"He's twenty," Akihiko said softly, thinking about how tender Misaki still was despite the fact he was no longer a teenager. He would be twenty-one in a few months … _as long as_… He stopped the thought before it went any further, the dread gripping his heart all but unbearable.

Akihiko looked down and saw that Augusto was regarding him with raised brows.

"There's a decade between us. Again, is this going to cause a problem?"

This time it seemed to take the detective a few moments before finding his resolution.

"No, Sir, Mr. Usami," Santo Justino said finally but with conviction. "I'll take this picture and trace his trail from the beach if you'll lay it out for me. I'll ask around and see if I can find anyone who saw what happened to him."

"I have already done that a dozen times," Akihiko growled angrily. "The last place he was seen, as far as I can ascertain was the Surfboard rental shop!"

Santo Justino was again impressed with the other man's pro-activity, still he knew that Usami was a foreigner and even with the reward he was offering, as a native he might be able to get some people to talk who might not otherwise.

"And you have more of these printed?"

Akihiko walked back over to the table and picked up a big stack of pictures with text at the bottom containing all the pertinent information. He handed these to Santo Justino and then moved over towards the condo's balcony.

"Wow, you're thorough." The detective couldn't help but sound impressed.

"Misaki is my everything," Akihiko looked out the sliding glass door to the busy world outside the apartment; his eyes took on a glistening appearance.

"Look, Mr. Usami, if I am going to help you have to be completely transparent with me. Do you have any enemies? Anyone who would might try and take him?" Santo Justino leaned forward and stubbed out his cigarette in the full ashtray on the coffee table.

"Well, there are a few people I can think of," Akihiko said grimly remembering his recent history. "But I hardly think they would come all the way to Brazil get him. And my contacts in Japan are currently working on getting their whereabouts, just to be sure."

"Well, can you tell me who these people are?" Santo Justino's eyes lit up with a particular intensity.

"One is my half-brother, Usami Haruhiko, the other is Misaki's older brother, Takahashi Takahiro."

"Why would either of them want to take Mr. Takahashi?"

"Haruhiko simply because Misaki is mine," Akihiko growled coldly. "And he has made some ridiculous claims that he loves him." He paused and his voice changed completely, his tone was warm and filled with regret. "Takahiro because he doesn't approve of the relationship Misaki and I have."

"So you'll call me as soon as your contacts let you know that neither of these guys has left Japan?" Santo Justino thought a moment and added," but is it at all possible that even if they're there, they could have hired someone to take him?

You know kidnapping is big business in this country." The detective fervently hoped that Takahashi had not been kidnapped, as while the groups that did this were often highly organized, they were also ruthless.

"No, I wasn't aware," Akihiko murmured. He shivered involuntarily at the thought of Misaki being held somewhere. He prayed in that moment, though previously not a big believer in the concept of a higher power, that his dear boy was okay.

"Well, if it is a kidnapping…" Santo Justino tried to sound hopeful, "you will most likely hear from them within the next twenty-four hours.

I have a tracking device and a recorder we should hook up to your cell phone and the condo's land line."

"And if we don't hear from anyone?" Akihiko could barely bring himself to ask the question.

Santo Justino looked at him. He did not want to dash Usami's hopes; however, neither could he dare to raise them. He stood up and pulled a new cigarette from his pack. He lit up and drew a deep breath. His words accompanied his smoky exhale.

"We'll have to wait and cross that bridge when we come to it, Mr. Usami."

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and please review.<strong>


	3. Rules

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Three: Rules**

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><p>At some point, after Misaki regained the use of his limbs, food came.<p>

There was a knock and a young voice called a word first, in what Misaki figured was Portuguese. He so wished he had a better head for language. Then he heard the light voice say in heavily accented English, "breakfast." Misaki shot up from his bunk as a beam of light pierced his cell. A tray was pushed through an opening near the bottom of the door.

It was amazing how frightening it was to eat something when you couldn't see it and had no idea what it was you were being served. It was hard too, to eat with bound hands and no utensils. Misaki found he couldn't do it, despite his hunger, and pushed the tray to the side.

After this first meal had been given, Misaki camped himself out by the door and waited the interminable length of time it took for the next meal to come round. As he sat there naked and shivering, he muttered softly to himself, practicing in his broken English what he would say. Misaki shook partly because the dark cell was cool, but he also tremored at the idea, that if what Korovin had said was true, somewhere the man could be watching him.

The next time that the port for the food opened, Misaki darted his hand through the slot and grabbed the wrist of whomever it was that was feeding him. "Please, help me!" Misaki choked, his English raw with all the tears he'd been swallowing. However, no sooner had he said this, than he gasped and dropped the hand which retreated immediately.

Misaki's heart pounded with the horror of what he had just seen in the dim light cast through the portal. The hand had been young and only slightly smaller than his, but it had been missing two fingers and the back of the hand as far up the forearm as he could see had been covered with a maze-work of scabs and scars.

How much time passed after this encounter with the hand until Misaki suddenly heard Korovin's voice in his cell, he didn't know. Time didn't seem to exist in the dark. "Takahashi, close your eyes," Korovin directed.

This time Misaki obeyed immediately.

Again the bright light filled his cell; the glow of it flooded his eyes with warm color behind his closed lids. Within moments of hearing the door scrape open, however, this was lost as the blindfold was replaced over his eyes. He felt strong hands grab his own still-bound ones by the tie and haul him up from where he was crouched on the floor.

He was roughly dragged from his cell, almost half-carried. His bare feet were abraded as he was pulled along the hard concrete floor. When he resisted this forced movement strong hands pushed him down and he crashed to the ground.

He heard the sound of a buckle jingle and leather hiss as it slid through belt loops (these were noises he could easily identify after having lived with his dear horny rabbit for so long). The sounds panicked him and he tried to struggle up, only to feel a heavy booted foot on his hip, forcing him back to the ground. Misaki cried out when the crisp leather suddenly kissed his low back with a sharp _snap!_

"I suggest you behave."

His captor's cold voice cut Misaki almost as sharply as the strap had. After this, Misaki allowed himself to be picked up and more or less carried to wherever it was he was being taken to.

He panicked again, however, when he felt himself hauled into another room and his slender frame was forced up onto a hard, long, flat surface. A strap was quickly fastened around his narrow, naked hips and his bound hands pulled up over his head and fastened there by a metal clip.

Misaki kicked out as a hand large encircled his ankle. This action was immediately reciprocated with a blow to his stomach that left him curling into himself as much as his confinement would allow.

"Please," Misaki gasped, sobbing, as soon as enough breath returned to him.

"Ah, Takahashi…" Korovin's voice sounded rather regretful. "How many rules do you plan on breaking today?"

The large hand returned and pulled Misaki's bent legs down one at a time, securing the youth to the table he was laid out on.

Misaki blinked as the blindfold was removed. He turned his head as the sudden brightness assaulted his eyes. A moment later the light in the room dimmed.

After his sight adjusted, Misaki looked over at the man who had abducted him. Cold blue eyes regarded him and an evil smirk quirked up the corners of his captor's mouth.

Korovin set down the remote dimmer for the lights and moved over to a small tray set up next to the table that his captive was strapped down to.

Terrified eyes scanned the room now that Misaki could see. It seemed almost like a physician's office and he was tied down to an examination table. When he looked over at the tray and its contents, a low moan built in his throat. Another followed as Korovin picked up one of the instruments that lay upon it.

He was holding a scalpel.

"Please, Korovin-san!" Misaki begged. "What do you want?" Though it made him feel terribly degraded he found himself saying, "I have a wealthy friend; I am sure that he'll pay you to let me go!"

"Oh, I know all about your boyfriend, Taka-chan," Korovin cooed. "I have been watching the two of you on the beach for almost two weeks now; you and your famous author, Usami Akihiko." He laughed when he saw Misaki's eyes widen at this information.

"No, I have plenty of money and I don't have any desire to send you back to him at the moment.

"No, you and I are going to have a lot of fun together."

Korovin laid the flat end of the scalpel on one of Misaki's small tight pectorals and dragged it down slowly toward the young man's heaving belly. He delighted in the pained hitch of Misaki's chest as his prisoner tried to bite back his terror.

"But first, we need to see about teaching you to behave a bit better. As I said before... honestly, Taka-chan, how many rules had you planned to break today?

"All this talking out of turn, after I specifically told you it was forbidden. Not to mention grabbing your feeder, _and_ fighting back both in the hall and on the table. That's three infractions right there.

"So before this unruly conduct becomes a habit, I'm going to show you just one of the things that happens when one of my boys breaks the rules."

Misaki was terrified by the man's words and the cold steel Korovin was now running over his low belly. That his Kidnapper had said "boys" added another layer of horror to the hand he'd seen earlier. There was a part of him, however, despite his terror, he rebelled at the unfairness of what Korovin had just said: he was being informed he was going to be punished for breaking some rules he hadn't been told about.

Despite his anger at this, Misaki remained silent as he felt the scalpel turned onto its edge.

"You know I have to be so careful with these instruments, I keep them so sharp, sometimes I don't realize just how deep I am cutting." Korovin lifted the blade and his ice-bright eyes scanned over Misaki's unblemished torso.

"It's too bad really, Taka-chan, I had hoped to fuck you while you were still unmarked, but…"

Misaki gasped not only because of what Korovin had just said, but also because in that instant the scalpel flashed and thin red line appeared just inside the hollow of one of his hips. The blade was so sharp he barely felt it at first, but within a few moments it began to sting terribly.

"One cut for each infraction, but where should the next one go? You tell me, Takahashi." Korovin offered the choice along with his terrible smile.

"Wha…" Misaki stopped himself, he gaped at the man through his tears. "Y... you can't be serious."

"If you don't tell me, I'll have to choose myself," Korovin clucked. The scalpel drifted lower, precariously close to Misaki's fear shriveled genitals. Korovin raised his cruel instrument, looking as though he was readying to strike again.

"Okay! Mmm… my arm! "

Just saying those words was more painful than the cut on his hip that was still weeping crimson. The blood from this first slash was now dripping over the side of Misaki's slender sun-kissed hip. Misaki immediately began to sob in earnest as soon as the words left his mouth.

His captor's wolfish grin widened. Korovin moved away from Misaki's vulnerable jewels to the top of the table. His calloused hand brushed the damp hair almost tenderly from his new boy's sweaty forehead.

Misaki turned his head away as much as he was able. He was glad he had not eaten: Korovin's touch made his gorge rise and Misaki suddenly felt as though he might get sick.

The man's hand moved down from his forehead and grasped his chin, turning Misaki's face back to him. He waited until Misaki's wet eyes finally lifted back towards him.

"Interesting choice… Oh, Taka-chan, we are going to have so much fun together, you and I…" Korovin chuckled lightly.

Then Korovin shocked Misaki completely, bending down and collecting his first kiss from his captive's unsuspecting mouth, before he set about the business of collecting his first scream.

* * *

><p>Misaki was breaking.<p>

He was sitting on the bunk in his black cell sobbing desperately. He knew he was going to give in to Korovin. The cruelest part of it was, the "Doc," as Korovin informed him he preferred to be called, had presented the situation to him as though he had a choice, just like with his first punishment.

Misaki's shoulders shook harder. His thin frame was wracked with tear-filled gasps as he realized there was never really any choice at all. It had all been a wicked farce, another cruel game, a test to see how long he would last.

Misaki's hand unconsciously traced the thin scab that ran down his arm from shoulder to wrist.

_At least it doesn't itch as much today._

The Doc's first cut had been only about three inches long, not so the one he'd forced Misaki to choose. Misaki's hand left his arm and now grazed lightly over the scab at his hip that sealed that slice too. Finally, he reached up and traced the final strike, a cut that had followed the entire length of one of his collarbones.

Korovin had given this to him as one of the options for his third cut after growing impatient when he was unable to decide where his last punishment should go following the trauma of what the man had already done to his tender flesh.

Misaki tried to shift his mind away from these thoughts and focus on something more pleasant. He spent most of his waking hours these days combing his distressed mind for good memories to dwell in.

He thought a lot of the time he and Usagi-san had together. Misaki had been surprised at how sharply he could hone his recollections without anything else to focus on.

Little things he'd never paid that much attention to, like the light stubble on the man's cheek in the morning when they woke together, or the particular way the man held his mug (differently with tea than with coffee) were suddenly of tantamount importance. He could not bear the idea of losing a single detail of the man he loved; the man he knew was and would never stop looking for him.

_I hope._

Misaki had to believe this, it was the only thing keeping him sane at this point.

Without any light, there was absolutely no way to keep track of time. He had tried to measure the length of his captivity by keeping track of the number of meals he'd been fed.

Misaki couldn't tell, but though he felt that their timing was uneven, still food was being given to him at what seemed like relatively regular intervals. When this was brought, it was the only light during his otherwise perpetually darkened day. According to his count, he had now been kept captive for twenty-one meals, possibly seven days roughly if he was being fed three times a day, if it was twice, maybe ten.

Though he had no appetite Misaki forced himself to eat. He knew that he needed to keep his strength up if he was to survive this.

Misaki was trying so hard to be strong, but the darkness was winning. He had never known such complete blackness. He tried to keep his eyes closed as much as possible now. His head ached so fiercely when his eyes were open for any length. Trying to see, they quickly strained in the absence of light that he was being held in.

A shudder coursed through him as he recalled the last thing that Korovin had said to him as the man was taping the marks he had inflicted on his previously unmarred skin.

"I am going to fuck you, Takahashi, but I am no common rapist. When I take you it will be because you have given yourself to me."

Misaki felt fresh tears in his eyes as he remembered so clearly the cruelty in his captor's gaze as he'd continued.

"Until then I will wait, as I have on more than a dozen other "projects" I am also involved with at the moment. So don't think that just because I have chosen you that you are really quite so special."

Korovin had paused after saying this to add, "those big green eyes of yours do something to me, however, I will admit, Taka-chan. So I will offer you this… when you do finally give yourself to me, I will reward you with a measure of light."

That said the blindfold had been replaced and Misaki had felt himself released from the table, carried back, and deposited in his black cell again.

Misaki pulled himself from this terrible recollection. While he so wanted to stay true to Usagi-san, he honestly did not know how much more of this darkness and isolation he could stand without truly losing his mind.

_'Will Usagi-san be able to understand if I strike such a terrible bargain? If… I mean... when he finds me will he be able to forgive me for betraying him? Will I be able to forgive myself?'_

At these questions a new wave of tears washed over Misaki and he suddenly found himself lost in an entirely new kind of darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading, please review.<strong>


	4. Beloved

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Four: Beloved**

Akihiko was stretched out on the sofa in the condo. The sun had long since set. He had been lying there unmoving for hours: the weight of his grief was so great that he could hardly breathe.

Both he and Santo Justino had been dis-heartened when after forty-eight hours no call had come through. It was now clear that Misaki had not been taken by someone looking for a quick ransom.

Akihiko had been mortified when he realized this. Even more so, when Santo Justino suggested that Misaki might have fallen victim to human trafficking: another big underworld business in his country.

"He's a bit older than what they usually go for, but he looks so young, they wouldn't know that at first," Santo Justino had soberly offered.

If that was the case, Misaki could be anywhere: drugged and locked in a room, in some abhorrent brothel, or even out of the country completely if he'd been sold to someone. All the terrible possibilities of what could be happening to his beloved ran through Akihiko's mind constantly in an unending loop.

It had been almost a month now since Misaki had been taken and every day that passed the chances of his lover ever being recovered grew slimmer.

Akihiko lit the newest in his long line of cigarettes, but even this old comfortable addiction brought him no relief. He took a deep drag and then after a moment with its release, as he did with every breath now, Akihiko also exhaled a word.

"Misaki."

Tears filled his eyes and Akihiko let them roll down his unshaven cheeks. He thought now, as he did almost every minute, of the way the boy had looked the last time he saw him.

"Misaki."

Sea-tousled brown hair that had taken on soft caramel highlights where the sun's fingers had stroked it.

"Misaki."

That lithe lean body, kissed brown and increasingly carved by his time on the water.

"Misaki."

The lush green depths of his lover's eyes that rivaled the sweating jungles in the mysteries and possibilities they contained.

Finally, Akihiko rolled his stiff body over onto his side. His muscles screamed in both protest and relief after having been in one position for so long. Akihiko relished the feeling as it distracted him, if only for a brief instant, from the pain in his heart.

Akihiko had quickly learned, as he suspected, that Misaki had not been taken by Haruhiko or Takahiro.

Takahiro was here in now, in fact, staying in a shabby hotel across town. He had flown to Santa Catarina after getting the message from Akihiko about what had happened. They had met once together at the Garopaba police station, weeks ago, once the police had finally gotten involved.

Takahiro had said nothing as he had sat in their missing person's office, red-eyed, listening to the interpreter Akihiko had provided for his friend for their conversations with the authorities.

The elder Takahashi had made it very clear in that interview that while he would work with the authorities in any way he could he would not tolerate any additional interaction with Akihiko.

This was a sliver that festered in Akihiko's heart.

Then this afternoon, Takahiro had called. "I have to go back to Japan, I am leaving the search for Misaki in your hands, Usami-san but don't think that means I have in any way forgiven you for what you have done. You have taken my brother from me just as surely as that rain-slicked road took my parents. Whatever the outcome of this," Takahiro's voice had choked on his words. "I hold you responsible."

"I understand, Takahiro," was all Akihiko could say. The author loathed himself in that moment, as he often had lately: that his selfishness had brought so much suffering to the brothers he loved so intensely.

Whether it was Takahiro or someone else, the facts of Misaki's disappearance had been leaked to the press and overnight, the story had become a global sensation.

_"Wealthy, famous author involved in an illicit affair with a barely legal boy… Japanese corporate heir steals poor, simple orphan, from family… Award winning novelist, Usami Akihiko flees with young boy toy to another country only to have lover mysteriously disappear."_

It was a tabloid's dream.

Accusations that Akihiko himself had killed Misaki had even been forwarded by some of the rags. Not that he gave a fuck about what other people thought about him, but the very idea that he would purposely harm Misaki… Only the boy's disappearance itself was more painful.

Santo Justino had been concerned when the situation had been made public. "If Takahashi is still alive…"

"He is," Akihiko interrupted, "I can feel it."

The detective had heard these words before on other cases and he had found, more often than he would like to admit, that intuitions of the victim's loved ones, unfortunately in the end, were not always in keeping with the reality of the situation.

"If Misaki is alive, hopefully this will incite someone to come forward for ransom or the reward, but…"

"But what?" Akihiko was disturbed by the sudden shift of the other man's expression.

"There is also a chance that all this publicity might spook whoever has the boy and they might panic or decide that they need to get rid of him."

At this possibility Akihiko felt a sharp blade of fear run through his guts.

In the few weeks the detective had been working for him, Santo Justino had proven to be a smart man and good at what he did. Akihiko still had the detective under his retainer, in addition to the police now.

After his initial experience, Akihiko did not trust them to care for Misaki's case properly. Besides, Santo Justino had a relatively amicable working relationship with the Garopaba police department, so they were feeding information to each other.

Santo Justino had also worked well with Ito, the Usami's personal investigator, but after two week's Akihiko sent Ito back to Japan.

It had not taken Akihiko long, once Ito was there, to realize yet again, Brazil was not Japan and while Ito was skilled, he just didn't have the cultural insight to be as effective as he needed him to be. He had dismissed Ito after becoming increasingly fearful that the family detective might actually start slowing Santo Justino down.

Akihiko closed his eyes after stubbing out his half smoked cigarette. He had not slept for more than a few hours in days.

He opened them again and looked at the takeout containers that littered the table.

He vacillated now between roaming the streets himself looking in vain for Misaki or staying sequestered in the condo for days on end, believing that the moment he stepped out, somehow Misaki would suddenly appear and he would miss him.

Akihiko sighed. _Aikawa-san will be here tomorrow._

He really didn't want to see her. But she had insisted she was coming as his friend, not his editor, to make sure that he was caring for himself. Akihiko knew he should be grateful. He had been nothing but a pain in the ass and yet the woman was still so loyal.

Aikawa-san had gone to the mat for him again just recently too.

When the news had broken about his situation, Marukawa had threatened to drop him because of the scandal. That was, until the news had shot the sale of all of his books through the roof.

Not that any of this mattered to Akihiko. If Misaki didn't return to him, he thought he might well never write another word.

Akihiko suddenly sat up.

This shift in position made him dizzy. He ran his hands through the greasy strands of his unwashed silver hair.

They'd thought they had a breakthrough more than a week ago when Misaki's phone had been discovered. Santo Justino's connection had been able to trace it. It turned out a street kid had picked it up. He claimed he'd found it in a garbage can that was along Misaki's path back to the hotel.

They were fortunate that one of the shops had an external camera for security. Akihiko had been beside himself when they recovered the footage of what had happened that afternoon.

The author had watched the grainy black and white coverage with Santo Justino as a European looking man, tall and light-haired was walking with Misaki. Then Akihiko had seen his boy suddenly stagger and collapse into the arms of this stranger.

The man picked Misaki up like he weighed nothing, opened the back of the van that was parked right beside them, and set Misaki inside. Then he threw something into the trash (Misaki's phone most likely).

Without causing any commotion and, in just moments after Misaki's collapse, the man had climbed into the van and had driven off. The whole scene lasted less than three minutes, but to Akihiko, with the anguish he felt watching, it seemed like an unbearable year.

They'd had had some luck after tracking the van with the cameras mounted on traffic lights near the scene. Unfortunately, the plate had been a dummy and after about the first fifteen miles, the vehicle just suddenly seemed to disappear.

"Whoever this is knows just what he's doing," Santo Justino had said over the phone to Akihiko earlier that afternoon after saying he had some new ideas but that for the moment, the trail had gone cold.

"Is that good or bad?"

"That depends on how you look at it," the detective had offered cautiously. "I mean, it seems like our guy really went to a lot of trouble to take your partner. So hopefully that means he'll want to keep Takahashi around for a while and that's good."

"And the bad part?" Akihiko had felt compelled to ask though he already knew the answer.

"The bad part is whatever it might be he wants to do to Takahashi while he has him."

Akihiko let out a soft moan remembering the detective's words then with great effort; he pushed himself up off the couch. Looking down at his increasingly thin frame and disheveled clothes, he knew that Misaki would be furious with him for allowing himself to get into such a state.

_Tomorrow,_ he promised the boy in his mind. _I will pull myself together and endeavor to act in a way that will make you happy, but for now, my Misaki, I am simply too tired._

Akihiko moved into his darkened bedroom and stripped himself naked. Then he lay down on the hardwood floor near Misaki's side of the bed. He curled one of his long arms up under his head for a pillow. Though he had the air conditioning off in the condo and the rooms were sweltering, a shiver shook his tall, muscular frame.

It was not much, but without knowing the conditions that his poor lover was in, there was no way that Akihiko could rest in the comfortable bed they had shared.

_Please know that I am with you as much as I can be, Misaki_, Akihiko closed his weary eyes hoping for a few minutes of solid sleep before the nightmares found him.

_Wherever you are, I hope you can be strong. I hope you know that I will not stop until I find you. I hope that you know whatever happens; I will never stop loving you… my sweet beloved…_

Exhaustion finally overtook him and Akihiko suddenly drifted.

Before he slipped into the underworld of his tormented dreams on his last conscious breath he uttered the name of his slender green-eyed deity.

"Misaki."


	5. Broken

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Five: Broken  
><strong>

* * *

><p>The darkness had broken Misaki at last.<p>

Actually, it wasn't just the lack of light that had done this. True to his word, the "Doc" had not sexually assaulted him... yet. Still, Korovin devastated Misaki thoroughly enough in other ways: the madman had inflicted different horrors upon him by the most insidious means.

For example, on numerous occasions after the traumatized youth finally collapsed into sleep from exhaustion, Misaki would wake to find Korovin hidden in the darkness of his cell with him. Wearing night vision glasses, able to see but not be seen, sometimes the man let Misaki know of his presence as soon as his prisoner awoke. Other times he awakened Misaki himself by grabbing the youth, snatching him from his troubled dreams. Then sometimes, Misaki had been awake for hours, only to realize suddenly that he wasn't alone in the blackness.

Because of this, Misaki barely slept anymore and when he finally drifted, he would often start awake unexpectedly, his heart thundering in his chest, his breath catching, sure that his captor was in his cell, whether Korovin was actually there or not.

On the occasions the Doc entered Misaki's cell, often he overpowered his weakened captive and jabbed Misaki cruelly with injections of various substances. Some of these resulted in euphoria, others a deep sleep or immobility, and still others almost unendurable forms of pain.

In addition to these tortures, Misaki's already slender form had grown much sharper: when he still didn't relent and submit immediately, Korovin ensured that his feedings became much more sporadic.

Misaki had also not been allowed to bathe since he'd been captured. For someone who was as intent on cleanliness as he was, this had been, in itself, a terrible torment. To make things worse, Korovin not only controlled the light in the cell, but he also controlled the water and towards the end of his continued refusal to offer himself to his captor, the man turned off the flow to the cell's toilet so that trapped as he was, Misaki was also forced to endure the oppression of the increasing olfactory outrage of his own waste.

Misaki fought as hard as he could against all of these manipulations. He tried locking himself away in his mind, hiding in his imagination, dwelling on the past, trying to recall almost anything that would distract him from the state of constant stress and terror he was kept in. He thought of Usagi-san with almost every pained breath and when, at last, he realized that he could no longer hold out, Misaki had wept bitterly for hours.

Once Misaki surrendered and told his abductor that he would give him anything to end this unendurable nightmare, Korovin still continued to torment him.

Korovin did not take his offering immediately. Instead, he laughed and told Misaki he would ravish him at some point… soon. Having said this, until the Doc took action, with every moment that passed, Misaki's fear mounted. He wondered at each second when the madman would decide to collect on his part of their terrible bargain.

In the interim, however, Korovin had turned the water back on and had allowed him some measure of light in his cell.

What Misaki didn't realized was that one of the reasons for his captor's delay was that after such a prolonged time in the darkness, too much light, too quickly would badly damage his eyes. The twisted Doc therefore re-acclimated Misaki gradually, increasing the amount of light in his cell over a period of days.

Korovin wanted his new project to be able to see everything that he intended to do him.

Misaki had spent every minute of this interminable time waiting in anguish, hating himself for betraying Usagi-san: the man that he had realized in his deep contemplations was without a doubt now, his life and his love.

It had been his thoughts of Usagi-san that had enabled him to endure as long as he had.

The loyal youth had thought repeatedly he should tell Korovin that he'd changed his mind and was willing to return to his blindness. But then, Misaki inevitably turned his eyes to the small light burning in the protective wire cage on the ceiling above him and remembered the blackness and the things it contained.

His paling body would shake from the memory of this, while simultaneously he damned his cowardice and sobbed at what he felt was his abysmal failure.

* * *

><p>Misaki had been incarcerated by the madman for almost three weeks now, but he didn't know that: he had lost all sense of time to the darkness. He felt as if he'd been being held for years.<p>

Finally, Korovin called him out at last, hauling Misaki from his dimly lit cell, ready to finally take what the youth had inevitably offered.

Misaki stood; hands bound once more, trembling before his captor. It was the first time he'd been out of his room since his initial punishment when Korovin had cut him. After the sensory deprivation of his cell, everything outside it seemed overwhelming, too bright, too loud.

Misaki couldn't stop shaking.

"You are stronger than you look, Takahashi." Korovin leered, looking pleased with the naked, quaking youth in front of him, "I've never had anyone last longer than a week before and here you almost tripled that record. I am curious…What's your secret?"

Misaki dropped his head and remained silent.

"I asked you a question."

Hearing the hard edge slip into his tormentor's voice, Misaki knew he had to answer.

"I… I… I… d… don't know…" His own shaky voice was harsh from non-use, "J…just stubborn, I g... guess."

_Usagi-san._

Misaki realized suddenly that he would truly rather die than confess the precious name his mind spoke without stutter. This knowledge was meant to be his alone. With this revelation, he understood now that he would allow the man towering over him to defile his body, but that didn't mean that Korovin could sully his heart. With this instant epiphany of the separateness of these things, his trembling subsided a bit.

It increased again, however, when Korovin barked out a harsh laugh. "Still so resistant, Takahashi?

"I think I'm going to like keeping you around for a bit.

"Alright, Taka-chan," Korovin sighed as though he was conceding. "I won't press you further at the moment." His wistful expression shifted into a malicious leer. "We have plenty of time for me to extract all of your secrets. Just know I _will_ get it out of you." As soon as he'd said this, he grabbed Misaki's bound wrists and pulled the youth after him.

Misaki was perplexed as to why he wasn't blindfolded this time, but he knew better now than to question. Even confined in his cell, he had still managed to offend his abductor's complex code of conduct and each time there had been consequences.

While waiting for the youth to break, the Doc visited his punishments on the young man in his cell, binding Misaki with a blindfold, always making Misaki choose the next place that the blade or the belt would fall.

The worst part of it was, most often Korovin would not disclose a rule until after it had been broken and he was exacting its punishment. This system made Misaki afraid to do almost anything for fear of reprisal, which was just what his captor wanted. But despite his attempts to follow the madman's rules, Misaki's lean shoulders even now sported new scabs from his most recent infraction and his torso was covered with a number of red, raised, weeping welts and newly-healed pink scars.

Stumbling down the narrow hallway from his particular prison now, Misaki counted at least a dozen other thick steel doors like his, appearing at widely spaced intervals. It broke his sensitive heart to think that there might be someone like himself trapped behind every metal slab. This sense was compounded when the pair stopped at the last door.

Korovin keyed in a code and called in through the opening door in Portuguese. "Get out here, Jadir. I want you to prep Takahashi for his trip to my playroom."

A youth, slightly smaller than Misaki and a bit younger looking, shuffled brokenly out into the hall. The boy had warm caramel skin, jet black hair, and huge dark chocolate eyes that stayed fixed on the floor. Like Misaki, the teen was naked.

Misaki gasped when he saw Jadir's body. Seeing the boy's face, which was still un-touched made the horror twice as powerful: Jadir's slender form which must have once been quite beautiful was now completely covered with the graffiti of scars.

Misaki felt tears well in his eyes for the other youth's terrible suffering. He dropped his eyes, but when he did so, looking down, Misaki saw Jadir's hands were both missing fingers. He realized suddenly that it was one of these hands he'd grabbed through the food portal at the beginning of his captivity.

Korovin began pulling Misaki roughly again down the hall. Jadir followed silently behind. After a number of twists and turns down dimly lit corridors Akihiko's boy was thoroughly lost. Finally the Doc opened a door to another room and pushed Misaki in.

It was a long tiled enclosure with showers.

Pulling Misaki over to one of the faucets, Korovin stretched his captive's arms up over his matted dark brown head and he clipped Misaki's bound hands to a chain that hung down from the ceiling.

"Jadir, come," the Doc commanded, stepping away from Misaki. The scarred boy immediately moved to Korovin's side.

"Jadir is my oldest pet at the moment," the man intoned coolly in Japanese. "He's going to wash you and get you ready for our little _play-date_."

Misaki's chest hitched at the evil purr of his captor's words. He watched as Korovin put one of his big hands on Jadir's marked shoulders. Misaki could tell the other boy was doing his best not to cower away.

"Jadir knows all the rules now. Don't you, my sweet," the mad doctor crooned in Japanese, not caring that Jadir couldn't understand him. His free hand ruffled the silent boy's raven head.

Korovin's cold blue eyes stared intently at Misaki. "And he knows how to follow them."

The hand that was on Jadir's head slipped down to cup the boy's bowed chin. "Just so you don't get any ideas about being friendly or trying to get Jadir to help you try and escape, Takahashi, know that as your temporary keeper, any infraction of my rules will result not only in your punishment but Jadir will get it doubly."

Misaki's eyes widened and took on a sickened expression with the realization of the possible cause of many of the boy's scars.

"And, just in case you have any thoughts about reneging on our bargain, or any ideas of being less than cooperative once we commence. Allow me to show you what can happen."

Korovin moved his hand up a bit and held it out in front of Jadir's mouth. "Give daddy your teeth, Pet," he cooed, first in Japanese so Misaki could understand him and then in Portuguese.

Jadir shot Misaki only the briefest of glances before opening his mouth and pushing out two pairs of dentures out with his tongue into the awaiting hand.

"I made these myself." Korovin sounded incredibly proud.

"Jadir gave me a rather nasty nip when we were first getting acquainted. So, I removed his teeth… One by one, with a pair of pliers and no anesthetic." The Doc offered this as though he was discussing the weather.

"Open," Korovin ordered. He turned to Misaki and winked. "I will say, that now without those snappers, Jadir does give the most delightful blowjobs." Korovin chuckled.

Misaki watched the caramel-skinned youth open his mouth and the Doc replace Jadir's missing teeth. Korovin held his fingers out after doing this. Misaki felt his stomach clench and thought he might get sick witnessing the Jadir dutifully lick them clean.

Once Korovin felt satisfied his fingers had been properly attended, he instructed his senior captive before he left the room. "Bring him to me once you get him cleaned out and have washed that awful stench off him.

"Then I want you to clean out his cell after you've delivered him to me, Jadir." Once again Korovin said this in both languages so that the two teens understood. "You pair had better play nice and behave and don't forget… You never know when I am watching." Their captor smiled wickedly, nodding to a camera mounted high in one of the room's corners.

As soon as Korovin left, Misaki hung his head and started to sob.

He was surprised when a moment later he felt a kind, strange hand gently stroke his matted hair. Misaki raised his green eyes and stared into the other boy's haunted brown ones. He started to open his mouth, but then promptly shut it when he saw the other prisoner's terror when Jadir thought he might try to speak.

Misaki nodded through his tears to let Jadir know he understood.

Jadir nodded back sorrowfully, knowing all too well the horror and pain awaiting his master's newest plaything. Then the scarred boy turned the shower on.

Misaki wept harder, but this time at the relief of the warm water on his torn, filthy flesh.

Jadir's mutilated hands were infinitely tender as he prepared Misaki.

The spray of the shower hid both the boys' tears.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and reviewing. The favorites and alerts are appreciated too!<strong>

**Ashley Tangerine, so happy to have you along on this fic too. Hope you can weather all the trauma to your beloved Romanticas. It gets worse...**

**Kenshinfan230, thank you so much for the note. You don't know how much it means to me to know that my story moved you so much. It is great to be bringing my fics back "home." Hope to hear from you again down the line.  
><strong>

**Hiimasasheep- Please don't die... I love to hear from you and am so happy with your excitement about this fic returning. Also, I got your review for "Fall" and you've gotten my mind going again there as well. So keep your eye out.**

**Hey Sweet Flamingo, I know you're skimming along. No worries about reviewing, just knowing you're reading is enough. Also, I have misplaced the cover you made. Can you send it to me? I want to get that back up. The one I have now is merely a placeholder. Kisses!  
><strong>

**Sincerely,**

**Cerberus**


	6. Drifting

**Warning: This chapter contains references to rape and torture**

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><p><strong>Days Without Sun<strong>

**Chapter Six: Drifting**

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><p>Misaki lay on his side curled into a fetal position on the bed in Korovin's playroom.<p>

A tear slipped from his eye and rolled down his cheek following a well-worn trail that had been traversed by all of the others he'd shed already that day. Misaki wondered how many tears he might have left in him.

After what he'd just endured he was surprised really, that any remained.

Despite the pain it caused him, Misaki curled himself tighter. He could hear his torturer singing happily off key as he showered in the next room. Considering what the man had just done to him, the sounds of his own screams still ringing in his ears, this cheerful noise from his captor was an abomination.

Misaki painfully, slowly, moved his arms up, to cover his ears with his hands. He closed his eyes against the blood stained sheets that he lay amongst, against all the terrible visions of what had been done to him, images he feared that had been seared into his memory forever.

The anguished youth wished that he could curl into himself completely, make himself so small he would simply disappear. He had given himself to the man as he'd promised, but that wasn't enough for his captor. Soon after he had submitted, Korovin had flown into frenzy, and had taken what he wanted… and taken… and taken…

It had lasted for hours.

There wasn't an inch of his body that wasn't in pain at the moment. Misaki's scalp still stung from where his hair had been so brutally yanked. His back and torso burned with the raw oozing marks left from Korovin's sharp, raking fingers. In fact, at one point the man had paused to clean scraped skin out from under his nails: they'd collected so much it was affecting his grip on Misaki's blood and sweat slicked flesh.

In addition to this, Korovin had bitten Misaki all over and his slender form was now covered with dark purple bruises, many of them weeping where cruel teeth had broken his skin.

Misaki couldn't run now even if he wanted to. The sadist had even bitten the soles of his feet. From the way they were throbbing the shattered youth doubted if he'd be able to walk. Not that he would have been able to walk anyway. Misaki could feel the fluids still leaking from his torn and battered ass: blood and lube and cum. The pain from his captor's multiple assaults pierced clear into his bowels and filled his low belly with an excruciating ache.

Another sob, in what seemed a never-ending string, lodged in Misaki's cock-bruised throat and he choked on it.

In the time they had been together, Usagi-san had never asked him to minister to him the way the he had been forced to attend to Korovin's vile member.

Misaki moaned softly, wishing now that he had. He'd known that Usagi-san had desired it and he had planned to do it someday. Misaki's grief intensified thinking of the first he'd just "willingly" lost to his tormentor. He resolved right then he would drink Usagi-san dry when they were reunited, until the flavor of his lover obliterated any memory of Korovin's spoiled seed.

As if in agreement with this thought, Misaki's stomach hitched. He gasped with pain as his anguished body was wracked with heaving spasms. Weakly, Misaki tried to push himself up as his stomach clenched and all the cum his captor had spilled down his throat traveled back up it.

Misaki retched, until he thought his own stomach might be coughed out as well.

A thick string of seeded saliva hung from his split and swollen bottom lip. Stiff fingers scrambled to bunch the stained sheets over the mess, sure that such an act of rebellion would merit yet another painful punishment and fearful if Korovin saw it, he might be forced to swallow it back down again.

In his devastated state, even this simple action was too much. Misaki collapsed, gasping. His hands twitched with indecision as to which tender part they should grasp in an attempt at self-soothing… there were just so many.

Misaki felt his mind wander, drunk on the trauma. He closed his eyes again and found his embattled brain take him back to the first time that Usagi-san had touched him.

He knew that some would say the author himself had assaulted him back then, but Misaki knew the truth of it.

He remembered the first time he saw Usami Akihiko: Usagi-san had been hanging all over his brother. Misaki had tried to convince himself at the time he was disgusted by the man's behavior but in reality, from the first moment he'd seen him, he'd been deeply smitten.

Images of his brother's friend had plagued Misaki for days afterward and though the youth had never told this to anyone. He had been too terrified at the time to admit that it wasn't disgust he'd felt at their first meeting: it was desire.

It had been much the same that first time in Usagi-san's apartment. Finding _that_ book, Misaki had been outraged that the man had written those things using his brother's name. But his temper had been fired in no small part by a jealousy towards his nii-chan and he was completely unprepared to deal with these feelings.

Misaki had also been furious to find Usagi-san able to write so freely about things he'd been taught were supposed to be abhorrent. Recurring thoughts he himself fought so hard to repress or only allowed himself to consider hidden beneath his sheets in the darkness of his lonely bedroom.

Misaki had come to believe that despite how dense his brother seemed, Takahiro must have known this on some level. He guessed Takahiro knew the same thing about Akihiko, though it was never spoken of.

The youth had long questioned if this was why he had never met his older brother's best friend before he did. Even the day he first met Usami Akihiko it had been a mistake: he had come home early and Usagi-san had lingered on a visit. Otherwise, they would have just passed each other by as they had been doing for years.

After his brother's terrible accusations the last time he saw Takahiro, Misaki often found himself wondering if this was true, if Takahiro had suspected, why his brother had allowed him to move in with Usagi-san?

Misaki wished Takahiro had understood how much better off he had been learning things from Usagi-san, then for his nii-chan's beloved younger to be tutored about the mechanics of gay sex in a public restroom or the back room of some club eventually.

Maybe Takahiro truly hadn't known anything about his little brother or his friend. But what Misaki hoped to someday convey to Nii-chan and have him realize was that more than sex, Usagi-san had also taught him about love.

Misaki's mind set these thoughts to the side. Thinking about Takahiro only brought him more pain.

Instead he went back to the moment of seeing that first Yayoi novel on Usai-san's coffee table. To be honest, encountering those things spelled out in black and white, had excited him immeasurably. That too had made him furious. So, when he confronted his new tutor and things had worked out the way they had…

In his mind Misaki pictured himself telling Usagi-san all these things now.

_We'll be sitting together on the balcony… no wait, on the couch. Usagi-san will be reclining, and I'll be draped his over his chest._

Lost in his thoughts, Misaki was unconscious of the blush that rose to his pale and pain-fevered cheeks.

Misaki could all but feel the comforting expanse of his rabbit's chest, his skinny legs resting between the muscular length of his older lover's long ones. Usagi-san's cool, skilled fingers would be softly stroking his chocolate locks. The man would be making all the soft noises of understanding that had become a lullaby for his boy in those tense moments of uncertain and intimate conversation they shared.

Misaki would quietly relate to Usagi-san how their first time together had been infinitely different than the horror he was now experiencing; how the author's chilled hands had thrilled him. How he had bitten back his cries, telling himself at the time it was a matter of pride keeping silent, but knowing that beneath this, that the real reason he hadn't shouted for help the first time Usagi-san had stroked his virgin cock was because truly he didn't want to give the man any reason to stop.

Misaki's labored breathing became more regular, softer. He could almost hear Usagi-san's smoky purring chuckle.

_Usagi-san will gently lift my chin and stare into my eyes and I won't look away this this time._

Not very good at language, Misaki had never considered how many colors of purple there were in the world until he'd looked into Usagi-san's amazing orbs: amethyst, lavender, indigo, lilac, violet, each subtly different but conjurable depending on the man's mood. Misaki decided for this conversation they would be violet, colored deep with thought, tinted with passion.

_Usagi-san will raise my head and kiss my lips. He'll laugh and tell me in that irritatingly silky drawl of his that he already knew everything I told him because he understands me so completely. That he has since the first moment he saw me_.

He would tell Misaki he would have stopped if he knew his lover had really meant it, because he would never intentionally hurt him, because Misaki was precious to him… because he loved him.

This time, Misaki in his imagined confession told Usagi-san that he felt these same things too, though because the man understood him, of course Usagi-san already knew this as well.

Through the pain that engulfed him, Misaki envisioned Usagi-san wrapping cool arms around him, holding him tighter. He pretended the damp, lumpy pillow he was resting on was the mass of the man's well-muscled chest beneath his heavy head. He strained his scream-scorched ears to hear the comforting steady beat of the heart Usagi-san shared with no one but him.

Misaki felt himself slipping out of consciousness on this last thought.

It was not the first time that had he had left the world that day, but it was the first time it was peace and not pain that carried him away.

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><p><strong>Old AN:<strong>

**Thank you everyone for the reviews. I am still without internet, so I have come into my office just to update and check all your lovely responses so no long notes here. I promise to do better when I have internet back at my house later next week.**

**I know this is a hard fic, but you asked for it... Thank you for hanging in here with me.**

**I will answer one question here...Revolnievol asked how I feel when I am writing this.**

**To be honest, this is the hardest thing I have ever written. I have trouble at times even rereading this stuff when I proof it, so if you see more mistakes than usual... that's why. I think one of the reasons I have been updating this so fast is I need to push through it and get Misaki back where he belongs. Having this stuff in my head makes it very heavy. For some reason, this chapter in particular made me so sad...**

**I also find myself worrying what will people think to know that one could even consider such things. Unfortunately, the things I have described in this fic exist in the world in ways much more terrifyingly real than what I will ever depict here.**

**So yeah, I want it to be good and relatively believable, which makes it, as I said very hard to describe. But I am also grateful, as this is really pushing me as a thinker and a writer. So thank you dear readers for the challenge and now you know too why "Uke Flu" Misaki is the way he is: OoC from the manga, but IC after being run through this particular world.**

**Sincerely,**

**Cerberus**


	7. Hunting

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Seven: Hunting**

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><p>Vladimir Korovin was hunting again.<p>

He'd been surprised to find his hunger for the tense thrill of acquisition had returned to him so quickly. In the past, usually after acquiring a new toy for his collection he'd been satisfied for much longer, but he was aware that over time his need was making itself felt with much more frequency. It was the natural progression of a temperament like his, he'd read.

But at the moment he'd taken a break from stalking the herds to stop into a low bar and grab a cold beer. Despite the fact nothing in particular had caught his eye on the beach, he was still feeling in the mood to celebrate.

He'd had his newest specimen for almost a month now. Takahashi was proving to be both a challenge and a delight. His research was also going quite well too.

Korovin pondered his collection. Never one to succumb to superstition, he had thirteen cells occupied there in his estate's underground chambers: a baker's dozen of beautiful boys to play with, each one a different experiment.

His mind drifted to the new project he was working on, however. Once that one was perfected, and he was so close now, he would administer his new creation to all the youths currently in his care. The possibilities were so enticing.

His thoughts then traveled again and he found himself contemplating his sweet Jadir.

After spending two years with him the boy was so perfectly broken. Korovin sighed. If he took a new pet now, Jadir would have to go… He never kept more than his odd number of playthings at any one time. "So sad," he murmured without truly meaning it.

All good things had to come to an end: at one time, Jadir had a predecessor as well. Perhaps in his death, the sweet caramel-skinned youth would finally achieve the perfection he had been moving the teen towards. Like his dear Carlo he relinquished when he'd acquired Takahashi.

Korovin found this line of thought incredibly soothing.

The doctor slumped back in the hard wooden seat he was occupying. He looked at the near-finished drink clasped between his surgically skilled hands as they rested on the scarred surface of the rickety table he sat at.

He sighed again and ran a hand through his lengthening, recently-dyed brown hair. Korovin blinked a bit, as his eyes were still adjusting to the colored contacts he wore. He was more than moderately annoyed that he'd been so careless as to not see the camera in front of the shop where he'd taken Takahashi from.

As scowl edged Korovin's already sharp features.

That author of Takahashi's was proving to be a bit of a nuisance. Posting pictures of him everywhere, those rough sketches made from the grainy black and white recording of that cheap security camera. The footage had looped on the news for days, forcing him to disguise himself now when he went out in public.

In addition to his change in coloration, he had recently added collagen to his lips and cheeks, filling them out. Adding a touch of prosthetic to his nose as well, so skillfully that it looked completely natural, had changed his appearance remarkably but it was a pain in the ass to do and wasted valuable time in his already busy schedule.

Still Korovin knew he needed to be very cautious right now. After all, there was also that nasty article that had appeared in one of those cheap tabloids recently. An expose on the number of international boys who'd disappeared over the last few years from local resorts. The reporter penning the article had tried to create some sort of link between these and Takahashi's disappearance. Korovin thought it was a smart piece of investigative work. Too smart. He supposed it wouldn't be long until the national news picked up on this as well.

Korovin looked up at the wobbly ceiling fan turning overhead. When he'd fled Japan some years ago and set up his practice here, he'd originally started by taking only local boys, street urchins primarily. Then no one asked questions or could even be barely bothered with the youths' disappearances.

As his skill and tastes refined however, considering himself a connoisseur of flesh, the "Doc" longed for more exotic flavors.

As rich as his private plastic surgery practice here in Brazil, the cosmetic construction capital of the world, had made him; as well as the illicit funds garnered from the specialty drugs he designed and produced himself, Korovin was wealthy enough he could have easily bought any manner of youth that he desired.

But what fun was that?

He had reconciled himself to the fact he was a pure predator years ago and the thrill of the hunt was just as important to him as the pleasure he got from playing with his prey once he'd acquired it.

His thoughts drifted back to his lovely Jadir. The boy was one of only two Brazilian youths left in his collection at the moment.

Jadir's father was a respected but inconsequential local business man. There was hardly anything on the news about his scarred boy's disappearance now. The coverage had all but ceased in fact, when after Jadir's first year of incarceration, he started sending the family one of the teen's fingers each time he came across any sort of renewed coverage.

This thought turned his mind back to his newest prize, the sweet Takahashi boy. Who would have ever thought such spirit was contained behind the youth's tender demeanor?

He remembered the first time he saw the teen as he was trolling the beach. Takahashi's coloring was so unique, those huge green orbs. So delicious looking when he was terrified, it was all Korovin could do not to pluck them out and swallow them whole so he could absorb them into his own cells and carry them with him forever.

Then hearing Takahashi laugh, the richness of the sound and the cadence of the tongue the he had left behind in the Land of the Rising Sun, when he'd fled from police pursuit there, it had made him so nostalgic. Takahashi had seemed so perfect and Korovin had watched with envy the rapport the boy had with his older lover.

Korovin had done his research well. He'd known that taking Takahashi was a risk. The teen's lover, the aristocrat novelist, Usami, was a person of importance. More so than those connected to any other of the foreign baubles he'd plucked from the beach.

He'd known he was upping the stakes before he'd made his move. But to be honest, that was part of the game, the adrenaline-pumping, heart-pounding thrill of it. Korovin realized that he was addicted to it thoroughly and that it was getting harder to maintain his high. This was why he was out even now prowling instead of being comfortably"entertained" by one of the treasures currently laid up in his lair.

The surgeon/scientist looked up from his quiet table in the corner, as two newcomers entered the bar.

Korovin felt his heart stop for a moment and then when it resumed it pounded madly as he recognized the taller of the two almost immediately. Though the cut of the man's clothes was expensive, the author looked thin, his face haunted. The sleek satisfied air that man had worn like a second skin, the first time he had seen him had all but evaporated.

Korovin found this very pleasing… his heart rate evened out.

This was going to be fun.

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><p>Akihiko walked into yet another dive and sat down at the bar. He was accompanied by shorter dark man. As was his custom, the author ordered an expensive drink that he wouldn't consume. It was just to show his good intentions to the bartender.<p>

He allowed his translator Javier to establish a comfortable banter with the man behind the bar before they pulled out the stack of flyers.

Akihiko knew in a certain sense that what he was doing was an exercise in futility, but still, he had to do something. He just couldn't bear sitting around his condo with Aikawa one more minute.

Akihiko thanked the gods again for the friend he had in his editor: Aikawa had come and shaken him back into his senses.

Though he still slept naked on the floor every night, Aikawa had made him clean up and start moving, freeing him from the tar pit of despair he'd found himself trapped in when she'd first arrived. Not only that, but the woman had promised to stay on for a few more weeks yet.

Hiroki had offered to come as well once Akihiko had called his oldest friend to let the professor know what was going on… Not that Hiroki hadn't already heard by the time he had rung him. Akihiko was touched by the gesture, but glad now that he'd been able to talk the man out of making the trip. He was so on edge these days he knew that the two of them together right now would have likely cost him yet another relationship and Akihiko was not about to lose on more person he cared for.

No new solid leads had come up since the discovery of the footage. It was maddening. Akihiko knew that Santo Justino was still working tirelessly on the case. As far as he was concerned however, the police, for their part, were useless.

By now, Akihiko had become familiar with the underbelly of Garopaba and the wide spread police corruption. Seeking out the brothels from the highest to the lowest, bars and drug houses as well, in search of information about his lost lover, the things he saw in these places looking for Misaki had irreparably changed him. Having lived his whole life in plush protection, Akihiko now had an entirely new understanding of the word "suffering."

Everywhere Akihiko went he asked the same questions, offered the promise of a reward. He had put himself in danger by his actions, come close to being kidnapped a few times himself, in fact. That was why his current translator, Javier, was a skilled bodyguard as well.

Not that he would have cared if anything had happened to himself; with the exception of the fact incarceration would have slowed his search for Misaki. The return of his beloved was all that Akihiko lived for at this point.

His well-published reward for information leading to Misaki had been highly responded to. So many calls came in initially, in fact, that Santo Justino had been forced to hire additional investigators to track down all the leads. Now, however, the calls and incoming tips were falling off.

Every day that passed left Akihiko feeling more desperate.

"Have you seen these men?" Akihiko asked the man minding the bar. With his ear for language he'd picked up enough Portuguese that he only needed his translator for more complicated conversation. "There's a reward for information that leads to the finding of either of these two."

The bartender at least offered him the courtesy of looking at the pictures of Misaki and his kidnapper. Many places he went, people wouldn't even take the time to glance at them. This infuriated Akihiko as the people seemed to have no understanding of the preciousness of the image he was offering to them in Misaki's portrait.

Akihiko sighed when the man behind the bar shook his head "no."

"Know of anyone who might have some information?" Akihiko asked tiredly. "The same offer of reward still stands."

Again the response was negative.

Akihiko hardly glanced over when another man pulled up next to him at the bar to have a glass refilled.

"Hey, I think I've seen that kid on the news," an accented English voice said with a mild exclamation of surprise.

Akihiko turned to face the man beside him.

He was obviously a foreigner as well: tall, brown hair, brown eyes. Akihiko couldn't help but feel, looking at the man, like he'd seen him somewhere before. He glanced down at the copy of the sketch of Misaki's abductor. He had spent so long staring at the image of this demon who haunted his dreams he could have drawn the sketch himself from memory.

No. It wasn't him. Besides his coloring, the man's nose wasn't right, his lips and cheeks too full.

Akihiko often found himself these days questioning his own sanity. It seemed now that almost every man he saw reminded him somehow of the picture the villain who had stolen his green-eyed heart.

Akihiko rubbed his tense forehead. This was the tenth bar they'd visited so far today and he was exhausted.

"So you must be the author then?" the man said curiously, "Usami something right?"

Akihiko didn't respond immediately the other man said: "You do speak English, don't you? I thought I saw you speaking English anyway, in some interview I saw on TV. Don't you think that kid is a bit young for you?"

The author considered the man's accent. He was definitely not English.

As rude as his comment was, Akihiko would have thought American, but that didn't seem right either.

"So I have been told," Akihiko sighed. He had become quite used to being considered a deviant after the last several weeks. Actually given his family situation, it seemed as though he been preparing to play this role for years.

"Excuse me, sir," The tightness in his voice belied the politeness of his address. "Unless you have some information about my partner, I don't mean to be impolite, but I have no desire to discuss the case with you."

"Sure sport," The other man said, gathering his drink and getting ready to return to his table.

"Look, I didn't mean any offense by what I said. To each his own, as long as everyone's okay with it, is my motto," the stranger said amicably. "I wish you the best in your search.

"I am a father myself," the man said pointing to a gold band on one of his fingers. "I can't imagine what I'd do if one of my kids went missing. Hope you find him. Whatever you do don't quit looking," seeming to have run out of platitudes to offer, the fellow pushed up off the bar and began moving away.

He'd not gone but a few feet when he heard Akihiko whisper behind him, "I'll quit when I'm dead."

Returning to his table, Korovin watched Akihiko suddenly down the drink in front of him as his translator/bodyguard looked on with surprise.

"Let's go."

Akihiko left the papers he'd show the bartender with the images of Misaki and his abductor on the bar, picking up the larger stack of flyers bearing the same faces he carried with him everywhere.

Akihiko looked back at the man who'd approached him once more on his way out, his hired muscle trailing behind him.

Korovin raised his drink in grim salute. He was incredibly pleased he could do so without his hand shaking.

The Doc leaned back with a sigh when the author finally left.

His heart was thundering in his ears, his whole body giddy with the electric thrill of being so close to the man he'd stolen his newest prey from: the rancher pursing the wolf who taken his lamb. He watched with satisfaction as the bartender glanced once more at the papers left on his bar before picking them up, crumpling them into a ball and throwing them in the trash.

Then Korovin had a sudden realization: maybe he didn't need a new toy just yet. Maybe he could just up the stakes and try a new game with the playthings he had. Korovin turned his false wedding ring contemplatively. Maybe he should send Usami Akhiko a gift…

Something to commemorate their first meeting…

Studying his long digits again, Korovin thought Takahashi's ring-finger would do nicely, but feeling as pleased as he was at the moment, he thought that he'd generously let the young man pick which finger it was that was eventually sent to his lover.

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><p><strong>Old AN:<strong>

**Katrinadianne**- check out the Uke Flu… some answers are there.

**LoserSquad,ForeverAgainst,LunaLilly19,Revolnievol-** thank you so much for your reviewing and glad you're liking the fic.

**0oBreakMeo0**- Thank you so much for the slough of reviews. The answer to that is in the Uke Flu… but you'll have to wait and see how things unfold. So glad you're liking the story.

**Kat-** thank you so much for continuing to review. I do appreciate your comments.

**AmIOtaku-**thank you for the kind comments

**BF101-** Saw your comment on the Neko-Files… Hooray! I am in the lead. I had to write that to counter balance this. Though I did have you in mind when I wrote it. What can I say… between you and freakyLemurCat, I am developing an attachment to this couple. Not that one could tell here with how cruel I am being. Maybe this will get me some Akira/Shiki action from you down the line somewhere…? Thank you so much for the PM BTW… your kind words were so helpful. Now I want to read all your other stories… Miss you GT!

**KristinfromItaly**- Princess, your reviews lately have been so delicious. Hope you find this and just a few quick notes from your OAP reviews… Reynard is another name for a male fox, Akihiko didn't come in Hiroki's mouth in Chapter 10 of OAP, "attracted to" is the correct way to say it and last, male or female… "filled" is the way it is often described. I shall eagerly await your next batch of kisses.


	8. Choice

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Eight: Choice**

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><p>Misaki and Akihiko were sitting together out on the balcony.<p>

Misaki had been hanging sheets out to dry. With all their bedroom activities, it seemed there was almost always a load of sheets in the wash these days. Akihiko had come up behind him and wrapped his long arms around Misaki from the back, leaned his shaggy silvered head over his lover's slender shoulder and began tickling Misaki's ear as his smoky breath had whispered his lust-filled desires.

Misaki of course had protested which resulted only in Akihiko becoming more aroused. Akihiko had wrapped Misaki tighter and a lighthearted tussle had ensued. This had ended with Akihiko pulling Misaki over and settling the youth in his lap as he sat down in one of the chairs they kept outside at the patio table on the balcony.

The couple calmed after this brief storm of activity and then, despite Akihiko's initial amorous assault, was content to sit there quietly with each other watching as the shadows lengthened and the city lights around them became more pronounced.

Akihiko kept his arms loosely wrapped around his boy's waist. Misaki leaned back against his lover's broad chest, his tousled head tipped back onto one of the older man's shoulder's, his eyes half closed, lost in feeling the comforting warmth and solidity of Usagi-san against him.

"I missed you so much, Misaki," Akihiko murmured. The long cool fingers of one of his hands left Misaki, drifted up, and then grazed down the youth's long slender neck.

Misaki shivered at the heat Usagi-san's chilled hand stirred in him. This cool generating hot was a dynamic he'd never understood, but he relished it. Misaki reached a hand up and his fingers stroked Akihiko's evening stubbled cheek. "I missed you too, Usagi-san." His voice was shy but sure.

Akihiko's hand moved and captured Misaki's, he entwined their fingers together. "There were times I worried I'd never find you." Akihiko's low voice was choked with emotion as he confessed what had been his most terrible fear.

Misaki shifted himself, until he was sitting sideways in Usagi-san's lap. He pulled their still-joined hands along with him as he moved, so that when he finally resettled he was nestled under one strong authorial wing. He tucked his head beneath Akihiko's angular chin. There was nowhere in the world he felt safer than right here.

"But you did find me,Usagi-san," Misaki whispered. Grateful tears welled in his eyes.

"I would never have stopped looking you know, Misaki." The truth contained Usagi-san's voice pushed the tears over the edge of Misaki's lowered eyes. Akihiko shifted his boy in his arms. He leaned his shaggy head down and nuzzled against Misaki's neck, brushing it with his warm lips.

Misaki shivered feeling the heat of the man's mouth on him.

Then Usagi-san bit down hard.

* * *

><p>The pain of the bite ripped through Misaki's whole body. He screamed and thrashed, trying to pull away, but arms far more powerful than his own held him in place.<p>

"Usagi, NO!" Misaki shrieked but he could already felt the blood welling in the pinched torn gash of his flesh.

"Takashi!"

A cold harsh voice that was nothing like the silk of Usagi-san's invaded Misaki's ears.

With a jolt he opened his eyes to the horror of Korovin on top of him… inside him… Misaki stared into the cold eyes of a mad man. One whose chin currently dripped with his blood.

His chest hitched, as the pain of his battered body washed over him in a crushing wave that threatened to snatch away his breath, to drown him.

"I want you here with me! Not drifting away!" Korovin snarled above him, underlining his displeasure with cruel thrusts that further jarred Misaki's already ravaged innards.

"Look at ME, Takahashi!" Korovin roared.

Misaki did as he was ordered and was immensely grateful that his tears distorted his vision. He had glimpsed the man clearly once, and that was enough. His tormentor's eyes held nothing human in them that Misaki could recognize: no love, no empathy, and no mercy.

Satisfied, Korovin lowered his head with a growl and resumed his rampage, ramming into the fragile body beneath him.

Misaki's ears were filled with his attacker's harsh guttural grunts and vile exclamations. He felt himself begin to shatter yet again from the impact of the blows. He tried to wrap himself in a blanket of lavender light, to hold himself together.

Then Misaki felt a gentle, damaged hand take his own.

He turned his head slightly and met Jadir's haunted eyes. The boy had been lying so quietly there beside him amongst the blood spattered sheets, Misaki, in his drifting had forgotten he was not alone in the madman's bed today. Nor had he been for the last several trips to Korovin's demented playroom.

Misaki had met at least five of the man's other captives now. Korovin's creativity for inflicting damage on the human body knew no limits it seemed. It was the same for the abhorrent, sordid acts he performed on the boys he kept and forced them to enact with each other.

Misaki looked back up at the ceiling and imagined himself there, looking down, witnessing the horror but not really being touched by it. He floated, the gentle squeeze of Jadir's hand periodically was all that kept him tethered.

He had done the same for Jadir when it had been the other boy's turn under the "Impaler." Misaki realized it was so peaceful hovering here outside his ravaged flesh he didn't want to ever go back in, but a harsh slap cracking across his jaw sent him plummeting back.

Korovin had climaxed and Misaki hadn't even noticed or thanked the man for it, as the ritual for this particular game demanded.

"Thank you, master," Misaki gasped, choking on his sobs, knowing however that it was already too late.

Jadir's almost fingerless hand left his.

Korovin had looked over and caught Jadir in his effort to comfort Misaki. He stared hard at the Brazilian boy cringing amidst the thin covers.

"So you two are cohorts now?" he smirked. "How touching."

Korovin withdrew from Misaki with a sickening slick and jumped up from the soiled mattress. He grabbed each youth by one of their lean, bruised arms and jerked them out of the bed. He dragged them from the playroom down the hall, leaving a spattered trail of red behind him as his violent motions reopened recent wounds.

The two boys barely even had the strength to struggle: Korovin had been "playing" hard with them for hours. He pulled the youths into a room Misaki had never been in before. But it was obvious that Jadir had.

The boy passed out from fright the moment they crossed its threshold.

Korovin threw Misaki to the floor. Misaki watched as he struggled to rise as the Doc dragged the unconscious Jadir over to a spot on the wall that was rigged with shackles. There were very few details that Korovin missed.

He manacled Jadir's wrists efficiently and then returned to Misaki grabbing the weakened youth by the hair and jerking him roughly. Misaki barked out a sharp yelp as the hand in his hair pulled hard. The flesh of his scalp burned, adding a new pain to his seemingly endless list.

Misaki felt himself lifted and thrown in to a chair, similar to the ones that might be found at the dentist. He immediately thought of Jadir's empty mouth and panic seized him. He found a new burst of strength and struggled upwards but it was too late. In his damaged state he was just too slow.

Iron hands gripped him and straps were quickly secured across his thin wrists and just below his elbows.

"So…" Korovin sounded almost conversational in his tone as he bound Misaki. "What's with this 'Usagi' thing, Takahashi? Are you keeping a secret from me?" His normally cruel grin was made all the more terrifying by the fact that his chin was still slicked with the drying blood of his most recent bite.

"What?"

Misaki was frantic. Over the course of his time in captivity Korovin had forced him to reveal every detail of his life to him. His lover's nickname was about the only thing his captor didn't know and Misaki had guarded this last bit of himself from the man vigilantly… Until today.

"You called it out during our last game…I am so disappointed that you don't find our time together more enjoyable, Takahashi. And keeping secrets… tsk tsk… I must be losing my touch." Korovin sighed heavily.

"So what is it? A nickname?" Korovin's tone was curious.

Misaki felt his heart stop as he watched his captor lay out a series of surgical tools on the freestanding tray next to the chair he was pinned to. This last secret, special name for the one he loved, called out in a thousand different ways over the course of the time he had spent with Usagi-san was the only thing that stood between he and his abductor any more.

Misaki resolved that at all costs he was keeping Usagi-san's name to himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Misaki shouted desperately.

"_Usagi_ sounds an awful lot like _Usami_," Korovin purred.

"If I said it, it was just a mistake… what kind of childish nickname is Usagi anyway… I'm not a child… I am a man!" Misaki muttered, knowing that if he shouted too much Korovin would know he was hiding something. His heart was breaking at this hard dismissal of what was most sacred to him.

"Did you ever think I might have said it mistakenly… Like having some asshole chomping on you wouldn't fuck with your vocabulary!" Misaki's voice was rough, erupting from a throat already strained from screaming. He squirmed in the chair, his huge eyes keeping careful track as the number of tools on Korovin's tray mounted.

Misaki would have never spoken like this to the man before, but he had reached the point of no return. He knew that the Doc was going to hurt him seriously now, so there was a part of him that Misaki hadn' known he'd possessed. One that thought he might as well go ahead and earn the inevitable pain.

"Such fire. Takahashi, I love it… So if I decide to use that childish nickname to refer to your annoying author you wouldn't mind then?"

"I don't care at all," Misaki said firmly, though the idea of his nickname falling from Korovin's foul mouth was almost more than he could bear.

But Korovin had slipped without even being aware of it. Calling Usagi-san annoying meant something to Misaki: that Korovin was aware of his lover. That Usagi-san had somehow gotten under the man's skin, indicated to Misaki that Usagi-san hadn't given up, that like his fantasy, the man was still trying to find him.

"Well then, how about we see what you cry out when I set about making a little gift for your old flame, Usagi. Hmmm? I had planned to wait a bit, but now seems like as good a time as any for this."

"Pick a finger, Takahashi" Korovin's voice was chillingly serene as he picked up a scalpel.

Across the room, Jadir had regained consciousness. At seeing the instrument in his master's hand boy curled into a ball as much as his restraints allowed and started to keen.

Misaki looked at Korovin with horror. Since the moment he'd been captured, every time that he thought he'd reached the bottom of his terror, the floor would fall through and he would plunge to a whole new level. This is exactly what he felt in this instant.

"What?" Misaki gasped.

Korovin laughed as he watched all the blood leave his little toy's bruised face.

"The Chinese of old, perfected the most amazing form of torture." Korovin turned the scalpel over in his fingers and began moving over towards Jadir, who was shaking so violently the boy looked like he was in the throes of a fit.

"They would take a captured enemy and tell him they were taking a limb. Making him pick it… saying it was an exchange made for the person's life. That once they took the limb the person would be returned. That this was the bargain struck between the person's captors and the captive's faction or family.

"Then after the amputation they would pretend that the arrangements had been made, sometimes even going as far as taking the prisoner to the exchange point. But the exchange would never occur and then months later, after the person had recovered his captors would repeat the process… until their prisoner was nothing but a limbless torso.

"Only then they would kill him."

Korovin looked at Misaki as he spoke in Japanese, but his feet carried him, scalpel in hand, over towards Jadir.

"Can you imagine the psychological agony of having to pick an entire limb, Takahashi?" Korovin's dyed eyebrows quirked upwards theatrically. "You should be grateful I am only asking you to pick a finger."

"But let's make this interesting, shall we?" By now Korovin had reached Jadir. He grabbed a handful of the youth's matted ebony hair, pulling the crying boy's head back.

"Look at me Jadir!" Korovin demanded. The scarred boy's dark tear-filled eyes opened, staring with undisguised terror at the man.

Korovin leaned in and kissed the boy deeply. He bit Jadir's lower lip before he released him drawing fresh blood. "Oh how I love the faces you make, precious," he laughed as Jadir, once free, began weeping anew.

The Doc turned his cruel blue eyes back to Misaki. "I'll give you the choice, Takahashi. I can take one of your whole fingers of just half of one of Jadir's. Not a bad offer, neh? Jadir should be used to this by now after all."

Misaki felt his stomach clench at what his captor just said. His heart broke as Jadir's head strained against the cruel hand in his hair, as his huge fear-filled eyes sought Misaki's.

"I am sure that his parent's might like to know that their son is still alive and to be honest, you wouldn't be the first to strike this bargain if that helps you at all with your decision."

The thought that Korovin's other boys had sacrificed Jadir's tender digits to keep their own appalled Misaki.

"No… No… t…take one of mine!"

"I see…" Korovin offered Misaki a sickening smile. The scalpel in his hand flashed without warning and instantly a long gaping crimson slash opened across Jadir's scarred chest. Only then did he release the weeping, bleeding boy.

"As I said, Takahashi… cohorts. Consider that mild punishment, Jadi, for touching Takahashi without my permission," Korovin stepped back to Misaki. Per his usual habit, he this in both the boy's languages, his ability to switch back and forth between them displaying the undisputed genius of his twisted mind.

"So noble too, Takahashi." Korovin grinned. The dried blood on his chin had darkened and was flaking off now. "You are truly a rare flower."

Only Misaki knew that he was far from noble. Despite his torturer's telling of that terrible story, the thought that his captor might really send his finger to Akihiko, as horrible as it was, also filled him with hope.

Misaki had never been big on crime shows, he had watched one with Sumi once. It had given him nightmares for days.

In the program, a detective was able to tell from a dismembered body part that it had been cut off while the victim was alive. If that was really true, and Korovin did send his finger to Usagi-san, there was a slim chance that Usagi-san could find out that he was still living.

It was a most terrible carrier pigeon, but if it was the only way to communicate his message, Misaki would send it.

"Take the little one," Misaki choked dropping his head, his eyes overwhelmed with tears of terror and desperation.

"Surprising," Korovin crooned moving in closer, stroking his huge hands over Misaki's bound wrists and reflexively balled fists. "I never took you for one to be so decisive."

Korovin cocked his head. "Which hand?"

"I… I … don't care," Misaki sobbed. "J… just get it over with."

"Now, now," Korovin chided, "Takahashi, you should know by now that's not how it works,"

"The left then! Alright!" Misaki bawled.

Korovin set the bloody scalpel down and picked up a syringe. The needle bit into Misaki's flesh and he felt that terrifying sense of immobilization fill his entire left arm, though he was aware it could still feel everything.

"A new thing I have developed," Korovin said proudly. "It doesn't entirely incapacitate, just in a limited area around where it has been injected. So handy, pardon the pun. Takahashi." The Doc chuckled at his own wit. "It cuts down on the risk of you losing more than I want to take… yet."

Korovin looked at Misaki, his expression almost regretful. "I was going to use an anesthetic, but now I'm curious. Think of your author as we make this little gift for him, Taka-chan. I am interested to find out as you hold him in your mind, to hear what comes out of your mouth."

Misaki felt Korovin's cruel, clammy hand on his immobilized flesh. He watched as the man picked up a new scalpel and pushed his little finger away from the others.

Misaki was astounded by the sudden clarity with which he experienced the scene around him: Jadir's still wailing sobs, his own rough rasping breaths, the bite of the restraining straps against his twisting body, the look of concentration on his captor's face, the way the cold fluorescent light of the room glinted of the stainless steel surface of the scalpel.

Misaki, however, pushed all of these things aside. He focused on tucking his lover's secret name down into the furthest recess of his heart, making sure that when he screamed as Korovin started to slice, it was always "Usami" he called on.

* * *

><p><strong>New AN:<strong>

**Hiimasheep, thank you for you words. Glad to know this gives you a chill. It chills me to think that I wrote this too as I am going back through it. **

**Kwkyori, I'm pleased you're enjoying (is that the right word here for all this terrible angst) the story. Thank you for the review.  
><strong>

**Alcuzey, thanks again for the heads up. And yeah, this explains a lot about why Misaki the way he is in the Uke Flu. Bet you didn't think I'd actually do it. Did you?**

**Ashley Tangerine, you still with me, darlin'?**

* * *

><p><strong>Old AN:<strong>

**No author's notes. I am really sick today. And too traumatized by what I just wrote to write anything else for a bit… Hope you are still reading this… let me know…**

**I know I probably sound a bit low... but I am a baby when I am ill... *Three headed puppy whines and closes aching eyes for a nap.***


	9. Momentos

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Nine: Mementos**

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><p>Akihiko was sitting on the couch in his suite staring again at the "wanted" flyer of the man who had taken Misaki. It had been almost eight weeks now and there was still so little information. Despite all Santo Justino's best efforts and the new "evidence" that they'd encountered, no progress had been made. Akihiko felt that at some points lately, in fact, it was as if the police were actually working against him.<p>

"Sensei, here's your coffee." Aikawa set a cup of hot java down on the table in front of him

"Thank you, Aikawa-san," Akihiko picked up the cup gratefully and took a sip. He watched as the woman went back to the kitchen to retrieve her own mug. Aikawa had been in Brazil now for about five weeks and Akihiko had no idea what he would have done without her assistance.

When Aikawa returned, she sat down opposite him. After taking a few sips of her coffee she took out her laptop and began checking her e-mail. "Do you think you ready to actually do some work now, Sensei?" Her voice teetered on the fence between mildness and irritation.

Akihiko knew from her tone that his answer would determine which side she'd jump down on.

His eyes darted to the seven cigarettes lined out on the low table.

Aikawa had started giving her author a daily ration of smokes, saying she needed to keep the man alive for as long as possible, as currently he was her only livelihood. She had transferred all her other authors to different editors before she left, not knowing how long she would be absent.

While normally rebellious, Akihiko was trying to abide by her attempts to care for him, in light of the sacrifices she had made to help him out during this crisis.

Akihiko leaned forward and picked up a pen off the surface of the coffee table with fingers that really wanted to be holding a cigarette. He began half-heartedly doodling around the edge of the flyer that carried the image of the man he loathed most in the world. "Santo Justino will be here soon," he mumbled.

"I don't need another excuse for you to procrastinate, Usami-Sensei. What I need is for you to get some writing done," Aikawa chided.

Akihiko's lavender eyes flickered up briefly from his doodling, though his hand continued to move over the paper. He had tried writing and, while he found he still could and that it provided some distraction, everything he wrote was so dark these days Aikawa was forcing him to continually rewrite to the extent he felt the whole exercise was useless.

Aikawa caught Akihiko's eye and she sighed. "Well, if you're not going to be productive, can I at least talk with you about some interviews I'd like to schedule?"

Akihiko nodded; his hands distracted by the scribbled marks he was making.

"About that new award you've been given…"

Akihiko cut Aikawa off. "What about that tabloid? _The Weekly Sun_, that's the one I'm interested in."

A few days ago there had been a big expose in one of the tabloids, part of an ongoing series, linking a number of cases of missing young men, natives and tourists, to the area. Santo Justino had brought the article to his attention. The story had declared there had been over thirty disappearances, at least, during the last three years.

Akihiko had checked after reading it and had found the research was thorough and the reporting solid. Given the decline of local publicity and police cooperation, he'd felt that this was some of the best investigative work he had come across outside of Santo Justino's.

The author had been wanting to meet with the reporter who had written the article and perhaps offer the man the exclusive interview he'd declined everyone else, in the hopes of getting more access to the writer's information.

"I told you before, Sensei, with all the dispersions that have been cast, I really don't think that it's wise for you to open yourself up to that kind of publicity right now," Aikawa advised. Seeing the stubborn set of the author's jaw, however, she frowned.

"Look, if I set up the interview with _The Weekly Sun_ reporter, will you do the other interview I want you to?"

"Yes," Akihiko said simply. He was about to add something else when a knock on the door sounded.

"I'll get it." Akihiko prepared to rise.

"No, you stay right there," Aikawa muttered. "I know once you're up I'll never get you pinned down again."

Akihiko watched his editor head for the door, a wan half smile teasing his lips. Though they had known each other for years now, Akihiko knew, until recently, he had never truly appreciated Aikawa as much as he should have. She had come into the shambles he'd made of both the condo and himself and within a week of constant tough love, scolding, and yelling, she had pulled him back from the brink.

There was a terrible moment during the first few days she was there, with all her sass and her spirit, the businesslike manner in which she'd approached the situation never breaking down before him, that Akihiko had wondered if the woman was just there to manage her career investment.

Then one night, he'd passed by the guest room where Aikawa was staying in the condo and heard her violently weeping. Akihiko had realized then that she was just as tormented by Misaki's disappearance as he was, but had been holding herself together out of consideration for him.

Akihiko wondered if and when they returned to Japan, what he might be able to do to repay Aikawa for all of her kindnesses. He looked down at the flyer he'd been drawing on as he contemplated this question. Seeing what he'd been unconsciously doing with the flyer, however, Akihiko frowned as he left this train of thought behind and caught another.

"Sensei, it's Santo Justino-san," Aikawa said much more brightly than she felt.

The Brazilian investigator stepped into the room, his handsome face didn't look happy, however.

"Did you get it?" Akihiko asked, rising to meet Santo Justino, looking at the P.I. with anxious eyes.

"I did, but I am not your errand boy, Mr. Usami." Santo Justino stated this firmly as he reached into his pocket and took out a small white box. "I'll not be undertaking that kind of task again for you. Understand?"

Akihiko took the small box from the detective carefully. He looked at Santo Justino with serious pain-filled eyes.

"Hopefully I will never need to ask this of you again," he said softly.

Several weeks ago a small package had been delivered to the condo. Aikawa had brought it in with the rest of the mail. Akihiko, for once, had been on top of things and opened the mail immediately,instead of letting it sit for days as he often tended to do when he was left to his own devices.

Aikawa rushed over when she'd heard the hoarse cry Akihiko barked out and she arrived at his side just in time to see his shaking hands holding the small opened box she'd brought in. Settled amidst a nest of white cotton like a gem was a single slender finger.

Santo Justino had been called right away, the police not long after. The coroner's report quickly confirmed the finger was Misaki's. It had been removed with no hesitation and a surgical precision. The one positive thing that had come from the gruesome token, despite the fact it had been frozen for an undetermined length of time, was that it was determined Misaki was still alive when the finger was taken.

After receiving this Akihiko had been driven almost completely mad with grief and fury at the thought of what other horrors his young lover might be enduring. For several days he had needed to be forcibly sedated.

Once he'd somewhat returned to his senses, he asked Santo Justino to secure the finger for him.

It had taken some wrangling and no small amount of bribery to get the coroner to release it.

Akihiko had arranged a special cremation for the small digit. In the box that Santo Justino had just given him now was a tiny vial of ash: the remains of Misaki's finger.

Aikawa and Santo-Justino watched in solemn silence as Akihiko slipped a sliver chain off his neck that sported a small keyed locket. The author sat back down on the edge of the couch, opened the locket, and reverently tapped the small trace of ash into it.

Akihiko closed the locket and brought it to his lips, kissing the cool sliver gently before putting it back on around his neck.

"Thank you, Mr. Santo Justino," he said sincerely. "You have no idea what it means to have Misaki with me again."

The anger left the detective's eyes. He stared into Akihiko's sorrowful face and nodded.

Then, made uncomfortable by the other man's clear anguish, the P.I. averted his gaze looked down at the table. "What's this?" he asked curiously lifting the wanted flyer with the image of Misaki's abductor that Akihiko had been doodling on.

Akihiko looked at the image as he had before and frowned again. "Just messing about a bit, I suppose." His voice was hoarse with the weight of his pain, having just completed his little ritual with the locket.

"You know this guy?" Santo Justino asked curiously.

Akihiko shrugged, "I wasn't purposely trying to do this, but I guess it looks like an annoying fellow I met in a bar when I was out looking for Misaki some weeks ago. Why?" This was true, unknowingly in his doodling, he had changed the face of the man on the flyer and had captured the image of Korovin with all his alterations quite accurately.

"When was this? And tell me exactly what happened… everything." Santo Justino made sure to keep his voice even.

Puzzled, Akihiko told the detective all he could remember about the incident.

"You can't possibly think that was him?" Akihiko asked incredulously. His stomach rebelled at the thought. _What if it was true and the man, Misaki's abductor and now obvious torturer, was sitting right there next to me?_

"I'm not saying anything," Santo Justino said. "Except, that there's nothing in this image a little hair dye, some colored contacts and a few injection of collagen couldn't have brought about and that was when the image of the perpetrator from the videos was saturating the airwaves," the detective recalled.

"And it's possible it's just a huge coincidence, but that Takahashi's finger was delivered within forty-eight hours after that…" Santo Justino shook his head as if trying to clear away such crazy speculations.

The detective wiggled the flyer making the paper rattle. "Do you mind if I keep this?" he asked.

Not at all," Akihiko said earnestly. "Do you mind my asking what you intend to do with it?" Aikawa too looked on in silent curiosity.

"Brazil is the cosmetic surgery center of the world, Mr. Usami," Santo Justino said mildly.

"I think I'll start taking this to every center and clinic in the city and just ask around and see if anyone worked on this guy. After all at this point, even after the finger, we're still at a dead end anyways, so what could it hurt?"

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you so much for all your feedback, guys. It means the world to me! <strong>

**Oh, And you might notice the new cover for this piece. The design concept is that of the brilliant The Black Flamingo 101. You can see more of her work on deviantart under the same penname.  
><strong>

**Kisses!**

**Cerberus**


	10. Chance

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Ten: Chance**

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><p>Misaki mutely followed Jadir down to the shower room.<p>

It had been several days now since he had been forced to see Korovin, to attend to the man's perverted desires, or be victim to any of his inhumane experiments. Misaki was so worn down he was incredibly grateful for this small window of recovery. And now he was getting the added blessing of a shower.

The boys in Korovin's dungeon were generally only bathed before a "play date" or when the Doc needed to repair one of his "toys" after playing too roughly. So when Jadir had seen Misaki's terrified eyes, he as he led the youth out of his dim cell and towards the showers, he had looked at into the wide green gaze with sympathy and shook his head in a reassuring "no".

Misaki breathed another sigh of relief as Jadir led him down the hall. Korovin had been increasingly busy it seemed, since he'd taken his finger nearly three weeks ago. At the memory of that terrible instant Misaki unconsciously balled his remaining fingers into protective fists.

There were still moments when he couldn't believe it was actually gone. Even more disconcerting, however,were the times he felt as though it was still there, the knuckle needing desperately to be cracked or the nonexistent finger aching as it used to sometime when he'd been working too long typing on his computer doing his school work.

Just thinking about it now, Misaki suddenly felt his missing finger start to itch; then he looked at the boy walking in front of him. Jadir was down to two fingers and a thumb on one hand and a single finger and thumb on the other, this didn't even begin to take into account all the other scars on the youth's skinny body.

Misaki suddenly felt convicted for his self-pitying thoughts.

Misaki stepped in to the shower room following Jadir. The Brazilian teen, who was responsible for the dungeon's upkeep, despite his tattered hands, kept the washroom so spotless no one just looking in would ever suspect the terror that had been flushed down the drain in it tiled floor, along with all the other traces of horror.

Jadir turned the water on, when he felt it had reached a comfortable level he nodded again to Misaki. Misaki nodded back before stepping in to the cleansing cascade. Not that he would have spoken, even if he'd been permitted. Misaki had woken after passing out the day Korovin had cut off his finger and found himself seemingly unable to speak at all.

The youth had thought at first, given how terribly his throat hurt from screaming, that perhaps he'd temporarily damaged something. As the days passed and his pain diminished, however, Misaki still found that he couldn't get a single word to form. Something he'd been punished for now on more than one occasion.

_Still,_ Misaki consoled himself, _at least this way I don't risk spilling out Usagi-san's name to that sick fuck._

Misaki was jarred from this dangerous train of thought when he felt Jadir's strange hands on his skin, washing him. He leaned forward, placing his own palms against the tiled wall in front of him, closing his eyes against the water and his missing digit. He relished the other boy's tender touch and the hot stream of the water against his now ever-soiled skin. Misaki started, however, when, under the muffling spray, Jadir leaned in and whispered into his ear in English.

"I will be dead soon."

Misaki turned his head, his large eyes grown huge with shock that Jadir would chance such an utterance.

"I am dead," Jadir offered, first in Portuguese and then in English as he dropped his eyes and slicked soap down one of Misaki's thin arms: it was also his task to clean Korovin's "toys" as well as the sadist's rooms.

Misaki's eyes flashed automatically to the camera mounted to the wall. Jadir saw his nervous glance and shook his head with a sad smile, indicating, it seemed to Misaki, that somehow the Brazilian teen knew that their abductor wasn't watching. In his fear Misaki was having difficulty processing what Jadir was saying. It didn't help that since English had never been his strong suit and certainly not under this kind of pressure.

Jadir frowned seeing Misaki's difficulty. He took his hands off Misaki and then with his single finger he pointed at himself. With his other hand he drug his two remaining fingers across his throat.

Now Misaki understood: Jadir was telling him that Korovin planned to kill him.

"I go… you come," Jadir repeated this phrase in his heavily accented English three times before finally getting frustrated and pulling Misaki's hand as he nodded towards the door.

Misaki's heart was suddenly pounding in his chest. He had understood what Jadir said that time but could hardly bring himself to believe what the other boy was suggesting. When finally saw in Jadir's eyes how serious the he was, Misaki wondered why the other boy had bothered to even pull him into the shower room to start with.

He saw Jadir leave him and go over to a set of cupboards on the other side of the room and take out two pairs of thin cotton garments that looked like pajamas. Misaki then realized the state he was in in when Jadir had come to claim him: filthy and matted, covered in dried blood and other crusted fluids.

He had for a time used the toilet water in his cell to bathe in after his dealings with the Doc. Sometimes these days, too he'd been forced to depend on the toilet water for drinking. These were things he could have never conceived of before his kidnapping, though they were just two things among many now. When Korovin had at last seen Misaki's bathing, however, he had cut off the water to his cell again for a time. And once Misaki had been informed washing outside the showers was considered new infraction and punished, he remained in the state he was returned to cell in now until he had permission to cleanup.

So, Misaki understood that though the pajamas were obvious, they were certainly less obvious and more preferable than trying to escape, naked and filthy out into the streets or wherever it was they were going.

Jadir's black eyes watched Misaki as he waited for the other youth to decide.

Misaki couldn't understand why out of all the boys in the dungeon Jadir had chosen him and even more than that, he was terrified. His captor had told him so many times there was no chance of escape.

Misaki shuddered, he couldn't even begin to imagine what Korovin would do to them if they failed.

Looking at Jadir, Misaki saw the other boy was trembling too and then he realized if it was true, and Korovin planned to kill Jadir soon, this might be the Brazilian teen's only chance. He looked at the camera once more and then at Jadir.

Another tremor rattled Misaki's thin frame. He swallowed hard and then stepped out from under the shower and reached with dripping hands for the clothes that Jadir held out to him.

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><p><strong>Hey guys, Thank you so much for the reviews and the feedback. It is much appreciated! I always appreciate hearing your thoughts.<strong>

**Cerberus**


	11. Flight

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Eleven: Flight**

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><p>As he slipped hurriedly into the thin cotton garments, Misaki couldn't get over how strange it felt to be clothed. He'd been kept naked since the time he'd been taken, excluding the few exceptions when Korovin forced him to dress up in humiliating costumes during a "play date." Once the they were both dressed Jadir took Misaki's hand and led older youth after him, out of the shower room and down the corridor.<p>

Misaki's heart was pounding so hard and so loud, he was surprised that it wasn't shaking the foundation of the structure they were in and alerting everyone within a mile of his presence. Jadir looked back and gave his fingers a light squeeze with his own damaged hand and Misaki suddenly realized the boy was just as nervous.

As they journeyed forward Misaki couldn't help but be amazed by how extensive Korovin's dungeon really was. As Jadir pulled him along on his trembling legs through a maze of hallways, Misaki began to realize during his captivity how little of the madman's lair he'd actually seen.

Misaki's courage almost gave out when they reached the end of a long hallway and encountered a door with a keypad lock. He watched with grateful amazement, when the Brazilian boy punched in a code. Misaki found himself suddenly wondering how long Jadir had been planning his escape.

The instant the door opened, the two youths scurried through, up some stairs, and out into another corridor. The floor was finished here and the walls were painted a warm cream color. Their bare feet made only the softest of whispers on the cool terracotta tiles now beneath them. The smooth surface of the floor felt so different from the harsh concrete the two had become accustomed to.

As they continued to move and Misaki was overwhelmed with sensations.

Though the spaces they passed through were completely empty, every noise, every shadow accelerated his traumatized heart. He understood now how fragile his incarceration had really made him.

Once Jadir buzzed them through another keypad security point and they climbed another set of stairs the change in the light and the air made Misaki realize also how deeply underground they had been. Together the panting boys traveled farther away out of the dungeon. A mad hope began to fill Misaki's heart. He couldn't believe it was this easy, that they really might just make it.

Then a twist in the corridor brought them to a place where it split into two more hallways. Misaki had noted before this that Jadir's steps had begun to slow down. He thought at first that this was because the teen was as weakened as he was, but now Misaki realized it was hesitance: they had come as far as Jadir knew how to go.

The Brazilian youth looked at Misaki helplessly and shrugged. Misaki felt his fragile hope immediately in danger of being crushed by his suffocating terror. Then he thought of Usagi-san, and his heart rallied. He nodded to the hall on the right. Jadir gave him a grim smile and the two of them began moving again.

As they passed down this hallway, Misaki noted the number of closed doors. These were polished wood, however, unlike the heavy steel of the dungeon. Misaki shuddered at how extensive Korovin's space was: the man had enough room he could have easily held a hundred captives at least, if he'd wanted to.

The two boys turned a corner and Misaki gasped to see another flight of stairs and at the top of the landing a windowed door with real light poring through the barred pane. His green eyes welled with tears at the painful joy that filled him, seeing true sunshine after the endless days of darkness he'd endured.

At this sight both Misaki and Jadir felt a renewed burst of strength and quickly clamored up the stairs. Jadir grabbed the knob of the heavy door awkwardly with his mangled hand. Both boys held their breath as he twisted.

It was locked from the outside.

Misaki's eyes dropped as he listened to Jadir rattle the knob. The Brazilian teen choked on a string of Portuguese curses. Misaki wanted to sob at the cruelty of this moment. Through the large barred pane of glass in the door's center he could see a sweeping green lawn flowing into a backdrop of lush jungle.

After the darkness, the white and grey sterility of the dungeon, Misaki's eyes were ravenous for color. His pale skin was equally starved for the feel of the sun that poured through the glass. The youth raised his eyes to the temptation of the world beyond the door.

Then his gaze shifted.

Misaki placed his own damaged hand on Jadir's scarred arm and mutely pointed to a keypad panel on the wall next to the door they'd overlooked.

Jadir gave a strangled cry at the sight of it. After a moment of staring at it dumbly, Misaki watched in horror as Jadir began to tear at the stuccoed wall around the security device with his remaining fingers until they began to bleed. In the humid Brazilian climate the heavy plaster came away rather quickly (though not easily enough).

Misaki reached out to grab Jadir's arm to try and keep the boy from damaging his abused fingers further, but Jadir had suddenly stopped clawing. The dark boy knelt down and picked up a few chunks of the dislodged plaster from the floor and began to work these with the fingers of one hand over the palm of his other until a fine powder, slightly pinked by the blood from his torn fingers filled it.

Misaki watched in wonder as Jadir rose and sprinkled this powder over the key pad. Then he watched the youth's ragged breath blow over the keys. Misaki blinked; he was amazed by Jadir's intelligence.

The powder clung to the natural oils left behind where Korovin's fingertips had touched the keypad. Jadir began to frantically try combinations of numbers using these hoping to find the right sequence. Then the scarred boy suddenly registered that these were the same numbers used in one of the doors below. It wasn't possible was it that the man would use the same key code twice in different doors, was it? Jadir tried that code again and listened for the latch to click.

Nothing.

Then he reversed the order. He barked a harsh laugh when a satisfying "click" suddenly sounded.

Behind Jadir Misaki exhaled a trembling sigh of relief.

Fumbling hands quickly grabbed the knob and twisted it. The door opened and both boys' taxed lungs were suddenly filled with the sweet heavy air of the outside, the humid caress of the breeze tickled their pale skin.

Jadir moved quickly, his foot ready to take its first step over the threshold onto the cobbled walk on its other side, when suddenly a large shape filled the door.

Misaki gave a sobbing gasp, as Jadir emitted a strangled scream.

It was Korovin.

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><p><strong>Alcuzey, you get your wish! Here's more.<strong>

**Ashley Tangerine. good to hear from you, sweetheart. Glad you're hanging in with me! Thanks for the AMC reviews by the way, you killed me! Anglefish... not quite, but sort of.**

**Gothpandaotaku- Thank you for the UF review. And yes... you'll just have to endure now.**

**Barrettachante- If you're reading, koi, hope it's as good the second time through and thank you so much for giving "The Uke Flu" a try. Hope to hear more from you there.**

**Thanks to everyone else reading and favoriting!**


	12. Fault

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Twelve: Fault  
><strong>

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><p>Korovin was frozen in surprise at the sight that met him when the door opened just as he attempted to enter his laboratory entrance himself.<p>

Seeing their tormentor standing there stunned, Misaki and Jadir were paralyzed with terror. Misaki felt what little was in his bladder suddenly release. After an endless instant, the two youths made a frantic leap for the door, trying to push their way out past their captor.

Korovin made a grab for the boys and the three males grappled. Somehow Jadir managed to slip out of the Doc's grasp and bolt out the door. Misaki glimpsed Jadir beneath Korovin's flailing arms as the scarred teen looked back once, before he turned and in a shambling gait tore out across the grounds.

"God damn it!" Korovin snarled. He grabbed Misaki by the front of the thin shirt he was wearing.

Misaki knew in his weakened state there was no hope for him now, but even so he refused to give up and kept struggling, if only so that it would give Jadir more time to get away. Misaki was shocked when he felt Korovin lift him up by the shirt he was wearing and suddenly shove him backwards.

There was a momentary surreal sensation of flying as the ground fell away beneath the Misaki. Then he heard the resounding sickening crack as his body came down on the stairs beneath him. The sound of his breaking bones was followed by the bellow of his captor as Korovin turned and flew back out the door shrieking "JADIR!"

Misaki lost consciousness before he truly felt the pain from his snapped bones as his battered frame continued to tumble down the staircase, coming to rest at last in a broken heap at their base.

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><p>Misaki's eyes opened slowly. He gasped as he emerged from the depths of unconsciousness into the open air of his pain. Despite his best efforts to hold back, he began to sob almost immediately.<p>

_So close._

Misaki was in despair. His body was in anguish too, however, as well as his mind.

As he returned to his senses, it only took Misaki a few moments of helpless struggle to realize that he was strapped down tightly to a metal table in one of Korovin's "experimental" suites.

Misaki felt the cold stainless steel under him. He realized he was naked again and also that suddenly he could even feel the hard metal quite clearly under the back of his head and the cool air of the room all around it as well. But this sensation held his attention for the, merest moments as he was quickly overwhelmed with much more powerful sensations.

Every muscle of his body seemed strained. One of his sides hurt terribly and drawing a breath was incredibly painful. His neck was so stiff he could barely move it, and his lower legs and ankles were filled with unbearable sharp aches that throbbed all the way up into his knees.

Misaki flinched sharply when he felt the sickly warmth of an all too familiar hand on the top of what he now realized was his newly-shaved head and the pain of this movement brought on new sobs. He closed his eyes but his tied hands couldn't cover his ears to block out the despised voice of his captor.

"Well, well, Takahashi, it seems you are full of surprises. To be honest, I didn't think you or Jadir had it in you. But then that's a lesson learned for me, I suppose," Korovin sighed wearily.

Misaki felt the hand on his head turn it cruelly. His lost voice resurfaced as a hoarse scream tore through his throat at the pain of this movement.

"Open your eyes and see what you've done, Takahashi," his captor demanded.

Misaki was overwhelmed with fear. When the youth's eyes stayed tightly shut and didn't open immediately, it set the already furious Korovin into a greater rage.

"I said look, you stupid bitch boy!" Korovin screamed so close to Misaki's face he smelled the man's peppermint scented breath. He felt the heat of the man's scream on the side of his face, hot spittle anointed his cheeks.

Misaki opened his tear-blurred eyes slowly.

He saw another tabled not six feet away from him, just like the one he was strapped to but it was empty.

Well, that was not entirely true. The whole surface of the table was stained a deep crimson, a wide thick pool of blood was coagulating in the center of the table. Misaki shifted his eyes down away from the horror only to discover more when he saw the bloody tracks on the floor where a body had obviously been drug. They went from the door to the table. Beneath the steel slab were smaller pools and more splatters.

Misaki's eyes closed as a single word filled his mind:

_Jadir._

His eye shot open quickly again however, when Misaki felt hard nails dig into his scalp. "Did I fucking say you could close your eyes Takahashi?" Korovin shrieked.

"Look at that, absorb it, and see what you have done, you stupid cunt!" the man raged. "Did you think I was lying when I said you couldn't escape? If you were any kind of friend at all you would have tried to keep him here where he was safe not let him get away to be mauled to death by the guard dogs on my grounds!"

Misaki cringed away as much as he could from the man's accusations. "This is _all _your fucking fault, Takahashi!" Korovin screamed. "I would have given him such a beautiful death. I would have made him an angel, not left him a bleeding heap of garbage and guts, you little prick!"

As soon as he'd finished saying this, like a car shifting gears, Korovin immediately seemed to grow deadly calm. The man let go of Misaki's now bleeding forehead and walked down to his captive's feet.

Misaki's terrified eyes stayed open, watching the madman through his tears.

Korovin reached down and grabbed one of Misaki's ankles and squeezed.

Misaki's screams echoed off the walls of the room. He shot upwards at the pain, the leather straps holding him bit hard into his already abraded skin.

Once Korovin released the ankle and Misaki's shrieks subsided into harsh rasping gasps, the sadist walked around the table back towards his prisoner's face. "You broke one of your ankles when you fell down the stairs. I drugged you while you were out so I would have time to deal with Jadir.

"I was kind enough to break the other ankle while you were still unconscious.

"You should thank me for that kindness, Takahashi."

Knowing this game all too well Misaki tried to immediately breathe out a "thank you" though there was no real sound to his words. Still his effort seemed to satisfy the Doc for the moment.

Korovin chuckled. "I shaved your head too while you were out. Thought you could use a new look Taka-chan."

Then sadist reached out and stroked the trembling youth's tear-stained cheek gently. "Understand, Takahashi, there is no way you're ever walking out of here."

"Understand?" Korovin said softly.

Misaki tried to nod but the pain in his neck was excruciating.

A hard slap filled the air of the room with a loud _crack!_ and Misaki's head was snapped violently to the side.

"UNDERSTAND!" Korovin bellowed his face lowered to a mere inch away from Misaki's.

Misaki nodded again through his pain more plainly this time.

"Good," Korovin purred. He ran a calloused hand down Misaki emaciated torso. Once smooth, its pale surface was now littered with dozens of scars. "Now for your punishment."

Misaki's eyes widened. He should have realized after what he'd done, trying to escape and helping Jadir, that the damage done to him by the stairs and his ankle wouldn't be enough to satisfy Korovin.

The Doc picked up a tiny scalpel and brought to just under one of Misaki's nipples. He made a small cut and then he looked up and grinned at the battered boy gasping beneath him. "What's say I write a hundred times, _I will not be selfish and_ _cause trouble_," Korovin said coolly, "would that help you remember Taka-chan? Or maybe a simple _I killed Jadir_ would be better?"

Korovin leered and an evil grin filled his face. "I have a great idea Taka-chan, since we seem to have found your scream again, how about I do both? And if I run out of surface here…" the madman, nodded down at Misaki's torso; the hand not holding the scalpel drifted up and softly stroked Misaki's newly shaved head.

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><p><strong>Going through this as I repost, I am appalled at how dark this story is. All I can say is I am in a very different place now than when I first posted this fic. I don't know that I could ever write this now.<strong>

**Glad I'll be picking it up well past this point.**

**Thank you for hanging in here with me!**


	13. News

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Thirteen: News**

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><p>Aikawa was sitting in one of Garopaba's exclusive restaurants. She looked across the table at the <em>Daily Sun<em> reporter sitting across from her, a young American woman named Christian Flynn.

Though it had taken some time to make arrangements and secure the interview, the editor was pleased to be meeting with the reporter. The meeting made things feel almost normal for Aikawa, so much more so than what she'd been doing ever since she'd arrived in Brazil.

Aikawa was originally surprised to find that the person who had done such in depth investigative work was a woman, though she'd immediately chided herself for giving into conventional notions. She herself was a woman, after all, one who had shocked others with her own success in another heavily male dominated field.

The pair was meeting to discuss the parameters of Flynn's upcoming exclusive interview with Usami Akihiko. It was standard practice with the author for Aikawa to do this. She would lay down strict guidelines for how the interview was to be conducted and also get a feel for the person so she could instruct Akihiko on how to prepare.

"I have been working in South America for years and had been doing quite a bit of research on the life of the street youths here in Garopaba," Flynn offered this as she poked at the salad in front of her. "I have been trying to garner some aid and make the people here, if not the world, aware of these kids' plight and how they are victimized both by individual predators and corrupt local authorities."

Her sharp blue eyes met Aikawa's evenly. "You know I could feed a dozen kids for a week on just what this salad cost."

Aikawa fought not to sigh at the truth of the young woman's statement. "Look, Miss Flynn."

"Just Flynn in fine."

"Yes, well, Flynn…" Aikawa started over, bothered a bit as always by this foreign informality. "Usami Sensei has his own way of doing things… In his mind this restaurant was one of Garopaba's more modest establishments."

Flynn snorted at this and then broke into a laugh surprisingly free from any bittterness. Aikawa smiled at this herself and a rapport between the two women was quickly formed.

The two soon fell into an easy conversation. Flynn confided she'd started her research more than three years ago when a dozen gay street boys had disappeared from the groups she hung out with in a span of about eight months' time. Now the reporter speculated that at least thirty boys had gone missing, just from the streets.

She noticed however, that once the disappearance of the street youths slowed down, that the number of young male tourists missing from the area began to pick up.

"Why didn't anyone else latch on to this?" Aikawa asked curiously.

"With the beach scene there are a lot of young men and women who come here looking to get lost in one way or another," Flynn offered. "Most of the missing teen tourists were traveling on their own or with loose bands of friends. Your Takahashi is a bit of an exception in that regard."

"Besides," the blonde reporter grumbled, her sun darkened brow creased with displeasure. "You must know by now that the police department here is all but useless. It's completely corrupt. The chief of police is one of the biggest crooks there is in all of Garopaba."

Aikawa said nothing, but she nodded her head in affirmation. She certainly hadn't been impressed with what she'd seen. Just then her phone rang. Looking at the number she saw it was Takahashi Takahiro. The man had taken to calling her once a day to see what, if any, progress was being made on his brother's case.

Takahiro had previously been calling Akihiko, but as soon as the young businessman had learned that Aikawa was there, he stopped calling the author and, despite Aikawa's urging to go back to calling his friend, Takahiro refused.

"Sorry," Aikawa apologized to Flynn. She quickly typed out a text to Misaki's brother telling him that she was in a meeting, that she'd call him later, and that sadly there was no new information at the moment.

Aikawa nodded again apologetically once she had finished. "I'm so sorry, Flynn, but I have to keep this on because…" The editor's pretty face suddenly looked very tired. "Because of Misaki," she whispered.

Flynn looked at Aikawa kindly, "No need to apologize. I can't even begin to imagine how terrible this must for you and for Mr. Usami."

Aikawa smiled at the woman's warm tone. Tears that she had never planned on allowing to escape filled her eyes.

Her phone rang again, saving Aikawa from the further embarrassment of breaking down completely. The number was Santo Justino's. "Ah, Flynn, I am so sorry again, but I really must take this," Aikawa muttered. "Would you please excuse me?"

"Sure. I'll use this as a chance to peruse the folder you made me." Flynn picked up the envelope that lay next to her on the table. Aikawa had prepared a packet of information about Usami and Miaski and also included a bit of Santo Justino's work as well.

As she got up from the table, Aikawa smiled in appreciation of the other woman's work ethic. When she'd done her background check on the reporter before meeting her, it was obvious from the Christian Flynn's resume she was not one to be idle and looking at the assignments the athletic blonde had covered; it was obvious she was apparently fearless as well.

Aikawa withdrew to the posh lounge area of the women's restroom. Amongst the long couches there, elaborate vanities had been set up throughout the room. Rich women, obviously the cream of society, sat in front of a number of the huge round mirrors polishing their already immaculate appearances.

"Hello."

"Ah, Hello, Miss Aikawa." Santo Justino's rich voice filled the phone.

Despite her best attempts, Aikawa couldn't help but feel just the slightest glow in her chest at the warmth of the man's tones. She pushed the part of her heart she deemed foolish and unprofessional aside and spoke in a measured voice. "Do you have some information for me?"

The honey of the investigator's voice now dripped something darker. "No good news I'm afraid."

Santo Justino had been traveling to every plastic surgeon's and cosmetic enhancement office not only in Garopaba but within a one hundred mile range around the city. Today was the last leg of his journey.

"I have nothing," Santo Justino said soberly. "I just wanted to let you know before I spoke with Mr. Usami so you would be prepared."

Akihiko had been becoming increasingly unstable lately, agitated in a way Aikawa hadn't seen before. Given the circumstances of course, she supposed it was inevitable, but even with all her assistance the man seemed to be moving towards some inexorable edge and she was terrified as to what would happen when he went over it.

"Ah I did finally get the report from the police today with the specifics on the package sent to Mr. Usami," Santo Justino offered as a meager condolence.

"And?" Aikawa asked nervously. Though she thought to herself, _It's about fucking time_. Weeks had passed since the finger had been examined and reports had been promised several times now but had never been forthcoming.

"Whoever sent it was smart, the finger had been completely cleaned, no trace of any DNA, which we already knew from the coroner," the detective isghed. "For the packing however, the box was a fast food box used by over a thousand businesses in the city, the paper a brand used by numerous local merchant's too. The address label was a computer generated printout, no prints on anything, but the cotton it was wrapped in was a medical grade, which supports the way in which the finger was removed."

"And you're sure you've checked with absolutely every plastic surgeon. What about just surgeon's then too?" Aikawa was aware that in her frustration her voice had risen a bit louder than she'd intended. A few of the society women were shooting wondering glances at her.

"I am truly doing all I can, Miss Aikawa," Santo Justino said tiredly.

"Ah, yes." Aikawa made her tone significantly milder. "I am so sorry, Mr. Santo Justino. I know how hard you have been working for Sensei." Aikawa exhaled slowly. "Look, please let me break the news to Usami-Sensei myself, if you don't mind."

"Of course, Miss, Aikawa. Though I do wish you would consider calling me _Agusto_ sometime." There was an unspoken invitation in the detective's voice.

Despite the fact Aikawa knew she shouldn't be conducting herself this way in the midst of such terrible circumstances, the man's words somehow soothed her. "Good bye then, Augusto, I'll speak with you after I tell Usami-Sensei."

There was a new warmth in Santo-Justino's voice when he said, "Goodbye then, Miss Aikawa," just before he hung up the phone.

Aikawa closed her phone and sat there staring at it blankly for a few minutes. Then she slipped it into her handbag and tried to rally herself to go back out and face Flynn again. She walked over to one of the big mirrors and examined herself.

She was wearing a new business dress that Akihiko had bought for her. She smoothed down the sides of the rich fabric. She knew the dress probably cost more than she made in three month's salary. She'd only accepted it because it seemed to make Sensei happy if only for a few moments. Besides, the man did have impeccable taste.

She was just about to leave when one of the women in the room who'd been sitting at another mirror suddenly appeared by her side. the lady was stunning, despite the fact the woman, oddly, was wearing sunglasses.

The beautiful woman gave Aikawa a careful once over before she started speaking rather rapidly in Portuguese but then seeing quickly that Aikawa didn't understand she slipped into English. "Please forgive me," the woman trilled. "But I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying. You are looking to have a procedure done perhaps?"

Aikawa looked at the woman curiously, following her intuition, before she fully realized what she was doing, she nodded.

"And you can't find someone willing to do your procedure?"

Aikawa nodded again.

"Fucking conventional prick doctors have no understanding of a woman's need for beauty…" the woman suddenly declared loudly, then she gentled a bit. "Or men's for that matter…eh?"

She looked Aikawa over again.

"So what are you considering having done?" She asked curiously.

Looking at the woman's gaze, piercing despite the fact it was hidden behind the tinted shades, Aikawa said the first thing that came into her mind. "My eyes," she said hesitantly.

This was apparently the right answer as the woman broke into a beatific smile. She carefully lowered her sunglasses. "I knew in an instant you were a woman of taste," she smiled.

Aikawa's eyes widened. She was so shocked at the gaze that met her it was all she could do not to shriek. Fortified however, by all the horrors shed been through these last several weeks, instead she inhaled sharply. "What?..."

Taking her gasp as one of envy and not horror, the sun-glassed woman's smile broadened. "They're panther, aren't they lovely?" the cat-eyed woman purred proudly. "Of course it did take a bit to get used to the new optics but who cares? It is a small price to pay for living art. Am I right?"

"Stunning," Aikawa managed to murmur.

This pleased the feline-focused woman greatly. "Ah the peasants just don't understand beauty or rarity, now my eyes are both dangerous and endangered," she laughed. "But of course you know, we trendsetters… In a year or two there won't be even an alley cat left in Brazil, once this catches on.

Aikawa offered a strained smile but the woman didn't notice.

"Normally I don't go around giving this kind of recommendation," The woman drawled. "It's unfair to get people's hopes up and besides, Dr. Villinski is very particular. He has his own practice he runs out of his estate." She lowered her voice and offered conspiratorially, "He takes only a few choice clients. But looking at that dress, you can obviously afford his services and seeing as you want your eyes done. Well…" The cat lady tutted. "No one else you'll find will have the skill that he does. The man is an artist with the scalpel."

The woman opened her tiny handbag and withdrew a card, letterpress printed on fine parchment. She pressed her sunglasses up with one finger as her other hand pressed the card into Aikawa's.

The woman began to sashay her way out the door, but before she disappeared she chirped, "Tell Dr. Villinski that Maria Mendieta sent you. My guess is he could take that slant out of your eyes in no time too, when he does the transplant."

Aikawa's brow furrowed as she looked down at the card once the woman was gone. It read Dr. Lodov Villinski with a number beneath it.

She glanced up at the door the woman had disappeared through. _ Stupid bitch,_ _there's absolutely nothing wrong with my eyes._

Then Aikawa looked down at the card again. She'd talked so extensively with Augusto about all his searches she was sure if he'd come across something like this she would have heard about it.

She walked back to the table, her mind whirling.

As Aikawa approached the table Flynn looked up, she'd just finished the file. "I swear to god, whether this is the same guy or not, someone needs to find this sick fuck and put him down." She'd just seen the image of Misaki's finger.

Something in the way the reporter said this gave Aikawa a jolt. Slowly, despite her trembling fingers, she offered the card to the fierce blue-eyed woman and asked much more casually than she felt, "Flynn, do you feel like going on a little adventure?"

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><p><strong>A little change of pace from the last chapters…but hopefully still interesting.<strong>


	14. Plans

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Fourteen: Plans**

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><p>Within minutes of Aikawa handing Flynn the card the two women left the restaurant. As Aikawa relayed her surreal experience in the ladies' lounge, she was surprised that it didn't seem to faze Flynn in the least.<p>

"You know a colleague of mine did an article a few months back on that new craze among the elite," the reporter offered. "But because it was published in a tabloid, everyone thinks that it's just made up. I swear sometimes a rag like _The Sun_ holds far more truth than most 'legitimate' newspapers these days."

Flynn and Aikawa quickly relocated to a cyber café where they sipped lattes over their laptops as they each began to search for information on the surgeon, Villinski, and plan their story for when they called him.

It was very strange. The two women quickly noted that while most plastic surgeons and surgeons in general had a website or at least a listing in the Garopaba directory there was absolutely no information for any Lodov Villinski.

Aikawa sighed and pinched her nose in frustration: she was so sick of all these damn dead ends. "Well, I imagine with kind of work that he's doing, he probably doesn't openly advertise. It was foolish to think that it would be so easy."

Flynn was not deterred so easily though, she had other resources. "You said she told you that he had his clinic on his estate?"

Aikawa nodded and then watched as Flynn worked her magic on the laptop. After a few minutes of searching, the reporter's eyes widened.

"Holy fuck," Flynn whispered. She turned her screen around to Aikawa. Looking at the picture the editor was amazed at the size of the estate. Flynn flipped through several pictures showing multiple views. "According to the city records," she said soberly, "the estate was purchased by Villinski a little less than four years ago."

The American turned her screen back and read through an article about Villinski's estate. "This place has quite a history. It looks like the previous owners were part of a major cartel and came to a rather unfortunate end there."

Reading on she added, "The place was noted for its security, several posh out-buildings and…" Her face became very serious. "_As the original owners were involved in drugs, trafficking in organs, and white slavery, the place was eventually found to have an extensive underground network, levels of corridors and all kinds of rooms_."

"We have to go there now, Flynn," Aikawa breathed.

Flynn looked at the editor seriously. "Ms. Aikawa, this is not the kind of place one just shows up."

The reporter did a few more searches. "I can't find any images of this Villinski guy. Outside of a few mentions here and there it sounds as though the good doctor is pretty reclusive," the blonde said sounding annoyed.

"Then we need to call this Villinski immediately. That woman, Maria Mendieta, said to use her as a reference." Aikawa offered hopefully, "maybe that will get us in to see him right away."

Flynn frowned at the mention of the woman's name, this was the first time Aikawa had used it. Without answering she typed furiously on her computer for a few more moments and then spun the screen around. "Was this the woman you spoke with?" Clear blue eyes regarded Aikawa closely as she pointed to the image of a woman on her screen from an old society event.

Aikawa's dark eyes registered recognition; she nodded.

Flynn became agitated at this information. "Maria Mendieta is a former model." Then she added, "She's also the wife of the head of the Garopaba police force."

After this information sunk in, the two women were silent for several minutes.

Flynn picked the card that Mendieta had given Aikawa up off the table. She grabbed her cellphone and punched in the number.

"What are you?..." Aikawa stammered.

The reporter held up her hand for quiet. When the phone picked up it was a recorded message in Portuguese and English asking her to leave a message.

Aikawa was amazed to watch the woman transform in front of her as Flynn began to leave a dramatic message in an aristocratic English accent, managing to sound regal and yet slightly hysterical about having a cosmetic emergency, that Maria Mendieta had told her that Dr. Villinski was her only hope, and that she'd pay whatever she had to, to been seen as soon as possible.

The coffee shop became quiet as the patrons around her watched the young woman's performance. Aikawa was stunned.

After she made the phone call, Flynn looked at Aikawa. She smiled as though those kinds of theatrics were an everyday occurrence. She shrugged, "I do a lot undercover work in my quest for the truth." The reporter paused for a moment and her face became thoughtful. "From what you said earlier about your Mr. Usami it seems like he's loaded. Right?"

Aikawa looked at the woman and nodded though her expression was questioning. "He's quite comfortable, yes."

"Can you get access to some of those funds?".

"Yes," Aikawa said quietly. Since they had been in Brazil, Usami-sensei had given control of a number of things over to her that he was too distraught to deal with. As a result, she had access to several credit cards and expense accounts.

"Good," Flynn said, "Let's go shopping."

* * *

><p>The women had been an hour into their spree when Flynn's phone rang. She answered it completely in character and after a lengthy exchange; she snapped her phone shut with a satisfied smile on her face. "I have an appointment to see him tomorrow morning."<p>

"Tomorrow?" Aikawa sighed in frustration.

"Tomorrow's pretty good, I thought," Flynn frowned back. "And remember this is a long shot." Still, Flynn could understand Aikawa's impatience, even on such a wild hunch: if Takahashi Misaki was still alive and being held, every minute mattered.

"So what am I supposed to do until tomorrow? There's no way I can go back to Usami-Sensei without him knowing something's up and if he gets any wind of this he'll charge over there immediately." Aikawa's face belied her concern.

"Well then call him and tell him you have a late business meeting or something, find some excuse to stay out for the night."

Aikawa pondered this a moment then she looked at Flynn. "Look, if we're going to do this, I think there's someone else we should bring in." After she explained things to Flynn the reporter nodded.

Aikawa opened her phone and placed her call. "Mr. Santo… Augusto." She was aware her heart was pounding for multiple reasons. "I was wondering if when you get back into Garopaba, if you might be free for dinner tonight? You can? Ah…that's wonderful, and Agusto please, you can call me Eri."

Aikawa was quite aware she was blushing as she hung up the phone.

Flynn looked at her and smiled. "Back up and a date, I like how you work, Ms. Aikawa."

"Oh hush, and just call me Aikawa. We've still got things to do, Flynn, so let's get going," Aikawa said this despite the fact the blonde's comment had just doubled her blush. She pulled one of her stern editor looks on Flynn: it had about as much effect on the reporter as it did on her author.

* * *

><p>Aikawa had more difficulties getting away from Akihiko than she'd anticipated. In part she was worried about leaving the man on his own at this point but, at the moment, she knew it was the only way.<p>

Akihiko had become incredibly protective when he heard Aikawa had a date and might not be returning that evening. After losing Misaki as he had, Akihiko had no intentions of losing any one else he cared about. He badgered Aikawa about her safety until she finally admitted she was going out with Santo Justino.

Hearing this Akihiko had relaxed just a bit. He'd seen the two surreptitiously eying each other on occasion and knew that it was probably vital to Aikawa's mental health for the woman to get a break from all his craziness.

In all honesty, Akihiko himself wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to hold on to his sanity (or what was passing for it these days) without Misaki. He'd asked about Santo Justino's news or if there was any. Aikawa had stalled saying he hadn't told her anything specific but that she'd call him after dinner and catch him up on any updates.

At this point Akihiko had sighed and told her not to bother. If Santo Justino hadn't called him and hadn't said anything, that most likely meant there was nothing new. Then he'd wished her an "enjoyable" evening away, his voice sounding heart-breakingly defeated as he hung up.

* * *

><p>The dinner went well; though to Santo Justino's disappointment Flynn joined them. He listened to what the women had discovered carefully keeping his face blank, not wishing to incite any false hope.<p>

Though Aikawa and Flynn's plan was risky and he was reluctant to permit it, after everything had been laid out Santo Justino eventually agreed to try it.

Following this, Flynn considerately excused herself saying she had additional work to do in preparation. She slipped Aikawa a piece of paper with directions to her apartment, just in case the editor needed them later. Though looking at the way the two people sitting across from her at the table had been looking at each other throughout the evening she highly doubted Aikawa would come find her.

Flynn was right, Aikawa never showed up.

The next morning when the three met up again, from the soft glow both Aikawa and Santo Justino were wearing, it was obvious the two had found a congenial way to deal with the tension and the long hours of what was surely one way or the other a sleepless night.

Aikawa assisted as Flynn finished getting ready, each growing more nervous as the time to head out for the appointment drew nearer. The reporter had donned a sharp fashionable dress. She had dyed her cropped blonde hair a deep brown during the evening. The reporter also sported new expensive sunglasses and simple but rich jewelry.

After Santo Justino had changed out the rental plates, the new brunette climbed into the sleek sports car Aikawa had leased the day before.

Aikawa wanted to go with Flynn, but she had been photographed quite a bit in the last few weeks with Usami, who'd become a popular paparazzi target ever since the news of Misaki's disappearance had been made public. Santo Justino much to Aikawa's annoyance had all but forbidden her to go, just in case someone at the clinic might recognize her. It was only when Flynn agreed with the detective that Aikawa allowed herself to be persuaded to stay back with Santo Justino.

Flynn was bugged and had a tiny camera inserted in a tasteful brooch she wore on her lapel. Aikawa handed Flynn the envelope with the hefty cash payment required for the initial consultation.

As though she were going to a pleasant social event and not stalking a crazed kidnapper, Flynn gave a cheerful wave and headed off. Santo Justino, with Aikawa riding silently beside him, followed in another car a safe distance behind.

Out in the lush land between multi-acred estates, at a certain point he pulled off the road pretending to have engine trouble as he listened to the bug on Flynn. He'd wanted to be close enough that if there was trouble he might be able to intervene, though all three of their party knew that in reality it would only take a few seconds for something to go terribly wrong.

Inside the car Aikawa sat waiting, her skin beginning to glisten with the sweat brought on by the hot humid air and her terrible nervousness. She hated feeling so helpless.

Villinski had said the consult would take about thirty minutes.

It was the longest thirty minutes ofAikawa's life. She watched the hand on her watch tick onwards, by the time forty-five minutes had passed she was on the verge of screaming. Just when she thought she was about to lose it, the hood of the car slammed down.

Santo Justino walked slowly around to the driver's side opened the door and slid in. He leaned over and started the car. "Flynn just drove out of the gates of Villinski's place."

He turned and looked at Aikawa his handsome face incredibly serious.

He said softly, "It's him."

* * *

><p><strong>Ashley Tangerine, Gothpandaotaku, and Alcuzey, Thank you so much for your faithful reviews. Also it pleases me immensely that you like my OC. You're right, yaoi does need an injection of some strong, admirable women and to get away from the trope of the histrionic or demonized female that inhabits so much of this genre.<strong>

**I am also delighted with your enthusiasm for Aikawa's love interest. While het really isn't my thing, I do think the poor woman deserves some loving. I mean, how frustrated she must be to inhabit a world where every man is gay.**

**On to the next chapter!**


	15. Escape

**Chapter Fifteen: Escape**

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><p><em>Hurt.<em>

_Everything hurts._

There wasn't a place on Misaki's body that wasn't aching and there was absolutely no way for him to get comfortable. Every movement he made reopened a dozen tiny weeping wounds, the results of his last punishment.

Misaki carefully raised a stiff arm to rub the dark chocolate fuzz that had grown over his scabbed head: his scalp itched unbearably as things were healing. It was the first time in his life he didn't have the protective layer of his thick dark mop. Without it he'd never felt so exposed, never more naked than he did now.

Misaki cautiously shifted his cast legs awakening their terrible ache again. The youth berated himself for being so stupid. He should have known there was no way he was ever leaving this place alive. And yet he'd been foolish and selfish enough to try to escape with Jadir.

In the pitch black of his cell, Misaki pulled the blood soaked strip of sheet he'd had wrapped around his mutilated torso tighter. He would have wept if he'd had any tears left, but they were finally all gone it seemed, a result of dehydration and constant crying.

_Even if I was rescued_, Misaki wondered, disfigured as he was, _would Usagi-san even still want me?_

What could he possible offer his lover now that his soul had been shattered and his body broken? Despite how often Usagi-san had told him he would love him "no matter what," Misaki couldn't believe the man would still say that.

After Korovin had finished with his punishment, the man had held Misaki up and had made him look at himself in a full length mirror. Hobbled as he was and so weakened from blood loss at that time Misaki had no power to stand on his own. This experience had been as psychologically painful as the physical torture he'd just endured. Misaki hadn't even recognized himself: the shaved skeletal creature with huge, fear-crazed eyes, soured-milk skin wherever it wasn't crusted with blood, bruised, or scabbed.

His flesh was now the diary of a madman's writings, not the journal for the worshipful, erotic poetry of his beloved Usagi-san.

_I look more like a ghoul than a human now... And that is just what I am_...

_A loathsome being._

Misaki accepted this without question; he was a miserable creature whose foolish actions had caused another boy's death. That made three people he killed now: his parents and Jadir, each one because of his own stupid selfishness.

Misaki managed to find one more tear in his desiccated body. He felt it trickle slowly down a gaunt cheek. For the first time since he'd been taken, he truly hoped Usagi-san would forget him, leave him and just get on with his life.

_It would be better for both of us if he did. _

Despite his best efforts, however, Misaki's heart still broke at this thought.

As a small child, when his parents had first died, he had wished for a time that he were dead too, just so he could be with them again. He had confessed this thought to Takahiro one night when his older brother was tucking him in bed. Misaki could still remember his brother's sad loving gaze as he'd told him that more than anything his parents would want him to live; that it was his duty to carry on and have a wonderful life; that this was the best way he could show them how much he loved them.

Following his nii-chan's admonition, Misaki, despite his sorrow, had committed himself to this goal whole-heartedly.

_But now?_

Misaki wanted to just curl up and die, not to join his parents or Jadir, but simply because he didn't deserve to live and what's more, he had no desire to even try any longer.

Misaki gripped the rest of the torn sheet tightly. Despite the excruciating pain of his every movement, he had, using his teeth and stiff hands, managed to tear the thin fabric into strips as quickly as he could, hoping that Korovin wasn't watching, or that if his captor was; he still would have enough time to carry out this last crazy attempt at escape before the man got there.

Misaki lifted the edge of the mattress and with shaking fingers (fingers that had also, however, become quite adept at preforming their tasks without sight) and tied the strip of fabric to the bed frame. Then he slipped the noose he fashioned at the other end over his head.

He had blindly measured the length. Unable to stand on his broken limbs and despite the agony his movements caused, he slipped off the bunk and onto the floor and lay down. The makeshift rope was short enough that his head couldn't reach the floor. Despite the terrible pain of his stiff neck and the pressure on his throat, Misaki allowed the weight of his prone body to pull against the noose.

He knew if he could just bear with it long enough (and at this point it certainly wasn't the greatest pain he'd felt), with the way it restricted his airway he would soon pass out. The collapse of his unconscious body and the height of the noose tied to the staunch metal bed frame above him would do the rest.

Despite how hard his heart was pounding, Misaki soon felt the edges of his consciousness begin to blur. He only hoped that whatever lay on the other side of this life wasn't so black.

He closed his cave-blind eyes and behind papery lids a dozen surreal colors danced. Misaki tried to focus on the most lavender-like among them and hoped Usagi-san would forgive him as he began to slip into his breathless slumber, waiting for death's dream to overtake him.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and please review.<strong>


	16. Injected

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Sixteen: Injected**

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><p>Misaki slowly returned to consciousness. At first he couldn't recall where he was or how he'd gotten there. Misaki struggled to clear the fog that seemed to be enveloping his mind.<p>

As he opened his eyes everything was initially blurry and all he could make out was the bright light overhead. He tried to turn his head away from the glare, but the pain in his neck immediately put a halt to that motion.

While the discomfort arrested his movements, however, it also sharpened his awareness. As his eyes finally focused, Misaki realized he was lying in a hospital bed in a curtained enclosure. He was clean, wearing a light gown, and tucked between crisp sheets. While he didn't try to move his head again, Misaki's eyes glanced to the side and he noticed an I.V. bag that was obviously connected to him somewhere.

The youth was aware his mouth was terribly dry. His throat ached unmercifully, as did his lower legs, and his torso itched madly.

_What happened?_ Misaki wondered.

_Was I in an accident?_

The image of his big rabbit flashed in his mind and instantly Misaki began glancing around anxiously_. Where is Usagi-san? Is he hurt too? Why else wouldn't he be here with me?_

Despite how much his head ached and how infinitely sore his body felt, Misaki struggled to rise only to find to his dismay that beneath the draped sheet, his arms and legs were restrained. He was anchored to the bed, his wrists and ankles encased in stiff leather cuffs lined with fleece.

When the reality of his situation finally hit him, Misaki panicked.

_What in the hell is going on here?_

He tried to call for help but nothing emerged from his throat but a significant amount pain. Still between his rasping and the sounds of his struggles as the buckles on the cuffs clanked against the hospital bed's metal railings, someone must have heard him. Misaki heard the sound of a body moving beyond the curtain and the soft tap of footsteps drawing nearer.

As the curtain opened, from his reclining position, Misaki saw the reassuring appearance of a doctor's smock.

"Ah I've seen you've rejoined us, Takahashi. That was quite a scare you gave me. You've been out for a few days you know."

At the sound of this voice, Misaki's heart stopped and then began again with a jolt, pounding furiously.

Suddenly the memories of his last moments of consciousness and everything preceding that, flooded back into Misaki's mind. He was overwhelmed, drowning in the tsunami of terror and despair that suddenly engulfed him. While unconscious, Misaki had been catheterized. This alone saved him from soaking his bed, as at the sight of Korovin standing over him, his bladder immediately emptied itself.

"There, there," Korovin crooned as Misaki began weeping in earnest. "I told you, Takahashi, there is no such thing as escape here."

These words only made Misaki's thin chest hitch harder. Despite the pain he turned his head away, closing his eyes as he tried to escape from the vision of his captor.

"You didn't think that I was going to let you leave me, Taka-chan? Did you?" Korovin set a clammy hand on the youth's pain-fevered forehead. "Not now that I am ready to share my new invention." The sadist chuckled as he said this. "You see, now that I feel resolved with this particular project, you and my other _toys_ are going to become the gifts that keep on giving." Korovin smiled, sounding exceedingly pleased.

Misaki's body stilled at these words. There was no way to describe the horror and abject defeat he felt in this moment.

Young man's sudden collapse pleased Korovin. He understood that he had at last completely broken Misaki.

"Ah Takahashi, you should actually consider yourself quite lucky. You are going to be the pioneer of a brave new world." Korovin took a vial and a new syringe from his pocket. The Doc drew some fluid from the vial and after wiping down the back of one of Misaki's thin arms with a swab of alcohol, skillfully injected him.

"There, now that wasn't so bad now was it?" Korovin falsely soothed.

Misaki felt his body immediately grow hot following the prick of the needle. Korovin had injected him with so many different substances that had tortured him so brutally at this point, all he could hope for was that this shot would quickly finish for him what he hadn't been allowed to finish himself.

Misaki felt a second swab and stick following this. "This is for your pain, Takahashi. It will make you a bit more comfortable." Korovin explained patiently. "Though as naughty as you were with that last act you pulled, I wonder at times why I continue to be so generous with you."

Korovin stood there a minute, watching the drug take effect and the tension slip from Misaki's hunched shoulders.

Misaki inadvertently sighed as all the pain that plagued him suddenly began to fade, the narcotic given to him dulling its sharp edges.

Korovin stepped around Misaki. The youth heard the sound of the curtains surrounding him being drawn back.

Despite the way Misaki winced away from under his touch, Korovin reached out and almost gently rubbed the top of Misaki's dark fuzzy head. "You're really actually quite fortunate I reached the resolution with my project when I did, Takahashi. Otherwise I would have saved you just so I could kill you myself for that foolish stunt."

The ice in Korovin's voice forced Misaki's heavy eyelids open. Against his will he found himself looking at the man. Seeing the mild expression on the Doc's face sent an involuntary shiver coursing down his spine.

"But instead, now I intend to take very good care of you and the rest of my _toys_… for some time at least." Korovin stepped to the side as he said this and Misaki could see the room he was in was long and narrow and lined on both walls with beds. He soon realized that each bed contained a young man similarly restrained. A number of them were also muzzled.

"As you have all been injected with the same thing, I thought it would be easier to monitor responses if I had you all together. Since my last test run, this is the first time I've tried this on a group." The Doc offered. Then he added his tone clearly warning, "Tempting though it may be, being in such close proximity to your comrades, the _no talk_ rule extends to this space as well." Korovin regarded Misaki seriously a moment and then laughed. "But as I recall, you haven't really been in a talkative mood lately and I imagine you throat is probably still terribly bruised."

The man leaned down slightly and suddenly clasped Misaki's jaw in a hard grip. "While you're enjoying this little respite, however, know that I will be making some modifications to your old room to ensure when I return you to it, you will never have the opportunity to try take from me again what is mine...Your life, Takahashi. Understand?" Korovin hissed.

Misaki's drug sleepy eyes filled with tears once again and he nodded almost imperceptibly. "Good boy!" Korovin barked, causing a number of the other boys in the room to start.

Satisfied, Korovin released Misaki's jaw and moved down to the other end of the room to check on one of his other subjects.

Misaki lay there not moving. Besides the overwhelming despair and exhaustion he felt, the drugs that Korovin had given him were now also almost in full force. Misaki's eyes flickered away from the Doc's departing back to the teen lying in the bed next to him. The youth was a pale blonde, his skin almost translucent, though it glowed pink now in some places, as the new substance Korovin had introduced into his system was already making him fevered.

Feeling Misaki's eyes on him, the blond opened his eyes and regarded Misaki mournfully. Misaki couldn't help but gasp at the cool jade color and the elliptical pupils of the feline gaze staring back at him. Despite this shock however, Misaki continued to stare at the other youth.

The two boys gazes locked in a desperate, silent exchange, until at last, Misaki's drug heavy lids could no longer stay open and he drifted from his current nightmare into one less tangible.

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><p><strong>And with this, the epidemic starts… Alcuzey, safe travels! And you and Ashley Tangerine get your wish for another chapter. Thank you for reading and reviewing!<strong>


	17. Ignited

**Chapter Seventeen: Ignited**

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><p>Akihiko looked up from his computer when he heard a key hit the lock of the condo door. It took him a moment to adjust his expression so that it was his usual impassive countenance Aikawa would encounter when she entered and not the mad look of relief he'd had knowing that she had returned.<p>

He knew it was ridiculous to feel such anxiety about the woman's absence: Aikawa was a grown woman and far tougher in many ways than most (she had to be to put up with him). He also was pleased that there seemed to be something developing between his editor and Santo Justino. After all, Aikawa was amazing and certainly worthy of someone cherishing her. That said, Akihiko also knew that he would kick Santo Justino's ass if the P.I. ever did anything to hurt her.

Despite these considerations, however, after Misaki's abduction, Akihiko had found himself increasingly driven by the fear of something similar befalling the other people in his life he cared about. And he was aware the possessive and suspicious nature he worked hard to keep in check even at the best of times, had been greatly exacerbated by all that had happened.

Akihiko was ready to teasingly ask Aikawa about her evening away, but the question died in his throat when she entered the front room and he saw the look on her face.

"Sensei, you need to come with me. Santo Justino-san needs you to meet him at his office." Aikawa's lovely face looked terribly strained. Her face was pale but her cheeks were unusually flushed.

Akihiko jumped up immediately. "Why? What's happened?" He demanded moving quickly towards her.

"I'm sorry, Sensei. I was told not to say anything until you're at his office and he can talk to you himself."

Akihiko felt the knot of black silk that had been tied in his low belly for weeks now suddenly tighten. "What in god's name has he found, Aikawa?" He couldn't help but reach over and grab her shoulders, inadvertently gripping them far more fiercely than he intended. He released his grasp immediately however when he saw Aikawa wince at the force.

Akihiko dropped his hands immediately. "I am so sorry, Aikawa-san, forgive me. It's just…"

Aikawa's chestnut gaze met Akihiko's tormented eyes. The flush of her cheeks darkened. "It's hopeful, Sensei…" she whispered."It's hopeful."

At this Akihiko flew into action. "What in the hell are we standing around here for then, woman? Let's go!" He dashed towards the door, grabbing his shoes and his coat, not even bothering to put them on. Aikawa followed quickly behind him.

There was a brief argument about who would drive. Aikawa was unwilling to trust her author behind the wheel, locked in the throes of emotion as he was. As a result, Akihiko found himself riding in the passenger seat of Aikawa's rental. It was all but impossible for him to ride in a car he wasn't driving, even under normal conditions: he hated being out of control. Now, under these circumstances, the sensation of being strapped in and at the mercy of someone else's navigation was all but unbearable.

"Surely you can offer me more information, Aikawa-san. I mean how hopeful is it?"

The desperate pain and the want in Akihiko's voice nearly broke Aikawa's heart. She reminded herself, however, she hadn't gotten where she was by giving into Usami-san, or anyone for that matter. So she mustered her resolve and said nothing.

Seeing the stubborn set of Aikawa's jaw, Akihiko grew angry. "What is this? You've chosen to honor _him_ over me? How long have I known you, Aikawa? I need for you to tell me! Now!"

Aikawa shot a look at Akihiko, after all she'd done for him his words angered her. "Drop your convoluted, dysfunctional family history baggage, Sensei! This is not about giving you what you want, this is about Misaki! Santo Justino is a professional and knows what he's doing! You need to trust him and after all the waiting you have done these last few weeks, a few more minutes isn not going to kill you!"

Akihiko's pale eyes widened at Aikawa's words. She had always been forceful with him, but never quite so harsh.

Seeing the way the woman was gripping the wheel of the car, Akihiko realized that this was obviously equally hard on her. He dropped his eyes and in his second rare moment of contrition within the last half hour quietly offered, "You're right, Aikawa-san. Please, forgive me."

Aikawa looked at him her lips still drawn in a grim line, but her eyes shone with unshed tears as she nodded.

The remainder of the ride was spent in silence.

* * *

><p>Akihiko felt as though he'd aged ten years in the twenty minutes it had taken them to get the investigator's office. Entering the P.I.'s suite, he was shocked by the number of people in it. There were charts and maps all over the walls, half a dozen manned computer monitors up and another half a dozen people talking on their cellphones.<p>

Aikawa nodded at Flynn who was standing off to the side talking with a man over Google earth views of the grounds she had visited earlier in the day. She was describing the layout of the Villinski's office.

Akihiko's eyes flashed as Santo Justino emerged from his back office. "What in the hell is going on here?"

"Please come with me, Mr. Usami," Santo Justino said calmly, indicating his office.

Akihiko and Aikawa followed him. Aikawa closed the door behind them.

The P.I. indicated a chair for Akihiko to sit down in, he remained standing, arms crossed tightly across his chest. "Someone better fucking start talking and fast!"

"We found the man who took your partner, Mr. Usami," Santo Justino said simply.

"What?" Akihiko felt as though a boulder had been dropped on his chest. Tears welled in his eyes and all his anger and his strength left him. He staggered over to the previously ignored chair and sat down hard. As soon as his breath returned to him enough to speak he whispered, "Tell me everything."

Santo Justino began with Aikawa and Flynn's meeting. He told Akihiko of the surgeon, Villinski's estate and its history as well as the man's connection to the chief of police. He pulled out an image of the man Flynn had snapped with a spy camera hidden in brooch, he discussed the most likely ways the man had changed his appearance.

"Why are you here then? Why in the hell haven't you gone there to get Misaki and arrest the fucker who took him?" Akihiko's eyes had gone ice-cold once all the information had been provided.

"Look, Mr. Usami, this is a very complex situation. The man is obviously protected and outside of your drawing of a guy that you saw in a bar and some shitty videotape, we still have nothing really to go on. Plus the Villinski estate is secured in all sorts of ways. And if he still does have Takahashi and your partner is still… alive… just blowing in there will only further endanger him."

Aikawa finally stepped in, seeing that Usami-san was still very close to going off. "Sensei, Flynn-san picked up something that Villinski had touched. Some of Santo Justino-san's men were able to get some prints off of it and they're running them now.

"If they turn up attached to anything illegal, that will make things easier. They should have the results in the next twelve hours

"But if nothing comes up, Flynn has an appointment for surgery in two days. Villinski's off before then for some private research project he's working on he said. Anyway we'll know for sure then where Villinski is as he'll be contained in his private clinic. Santo-Justino-san and his men will have a much better chance of apprehending him there."

"Two days?" Akihiko barked incredulously. "Do you know what can happen in that amount of time? What could have already happened? We need to go now! We need to get this prick and find my Misaki this instant!" The author's usually silky tones were coarse.

"This is exactly why I wanted you here to get the news, Mr. Usami. I don't want you going off half-cocked with some rescuer's complex and making mess of things!" Santo Justino barked back.

"Do you see those people out there? I have tacticians and weapons experts, a hostage negotiator, someone reading the blue prints for the estate. I have mercenaries and have made calls to state police and the few trusted people I know here on the local force that are not corrupt. Every person here right now is working at two-hundred percent capacity for however long it takes now to get a hold of this man Villinski and try and recover your Misaki!"

Santo Justino drew a deep breath. "No offense Mr. Usami, but you're a writer. You live in a world of the imagination. Once this plot starts unfolding there are _NO_ rewrites and I am only hoping to god we can give this story a happy ending. So leave reality to me and let me do my job! That's what you have been paying me for! Right?"

Akihiko drew back at thees words and Aikawa and Santo Justino both watched the rage well up in his eyes. A look of furious anger flickered over Akihiko's face and then disappeared; his usual blank expression restored.

Akihiko cleared his throat. "You're quite right, Mr. Santo Justino. I'm sorry. I am only an author, after all and should allow you to do your job."

Both P.I. and the editor's eyes widened in shock at this response, it was not at all what they had been expecting.

Akihiko cleared his throat again as the two people in the room seemed to be at a loss for words. "If it's not too much trouble, Mr. Santo Justino, would you mind showing me around and explaining to me what everyone is doing? I think it might help me better understand the situation."

* * *

><p>Hours later everyone was still working frantically. Akihiko remained calm and had allowed Santo Justino to show him around, explaining, in detail, the job of each person present. After the P.I. had been called away to attend other details, Akihiko continued to circulate, observing silently and asking questions when it didn't seem intrusive.<p>

As the day wore on new people entered the office relieving others. Finally Akihiko approached Aikawa and Augusto who were having a moment of quiet conversation.

"Ah, Mr. Santo Justino, Aikawa-san, If you'll excuse me I think I'll go back to the apartment and catch a few hours of sleep."

Santo Justino, who knew the arduous hours ahead smiled grimly at Akihiko. "I think that would be a wise decision, Mr. Usami. The next forty-eight hours are going to be long ones with all the preparation. But if anything should change or if there's new information, I'll be sure and have someone call you."

"Do you want me to go with you, Usami-sensei?" Aikawa asked her eyes searching the man for clues he was not offering.

"No, I'm fine to get home on my own," Akihiko murmured. "I'll catch a cab. You just come home whenever it suits you, Aikawa-san."

Aikawa stepped closer to Akihiko. He was startled when she reached forward and gently took up the locket with the ashes of Misaki's finger in it with both hands. She held the silvered pendant reverently. "We'll get him back to you. I know it, Sensei. Please trust Augusto and don't do anything rash."

Akihiko noted the jealous flare in Santo Justino's eyes at Aikawa's intimate touch. Had it been under any other circumstances he would have been amused by this. Here, instead however, Akihiko covered Aikawa's hands with his own. Then he took one of her hands and gently brought it to his lips. "I appreciate all you have done Eri-san and now I promise you I am going home. Mr. Santo Justino-san is right: I am only an author after all."

The P.I. and the editor watched Akihiko turn and leave the office.

Santo Justino looked at Aikawa curiously. "Do you believe him?"

Aikawa shrugged as she watched Akihiko disappear out the door. "You have the tails set to follow him from here and the men stationed outside his condo so, we'll find out soon enough I suppose."

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and please review!<strong>


	18. Preparation

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Eighteen: Preparation**

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><p>Akihiko returned to the apartment. His careful eyes had noted the brown sedan that had followed the taxi he'd hailed from the moment he'd left Santo Justino's office. Entering the lobby of his condo, he also noted a couple unfamiliar men loitering there.<p>

The author wondered if he might not be being paranoid, but he'd learned quite a number of things over the years after being subjected to his father's meddlesome scrutiny and one of these was when he was being tailed.

Akihiko stepped into the quiet apartment. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and his lighter off the coffee table and stepped out onto the balcony. He lit up and drew a deep drag. Moving over to the edge he peered over on to the tree-lined walk below and noted that it appeared empty.

After several more minutes of silent surveillance, carried on under the guise of smoking, Akihiko felt relatively assured that no one was watching him from this possible exit._ Of course. What kind of crazy person was going to go over a six floor balcony? He was just an author after all? Right? _

Akihiko stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the patio table and crossed back into the apartment. He moved into his bedroom. Once there he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. He laid the garment carefully on the bed and then pulled the light tee-shirt he was wearing beneath it over his head.

This movement disturbed the locket around his neck. Long fingers immediately sought and stilled it.

Akihiko's mind was in chaos.

"Misaki."

He whispered the word under his breath like a prayer. Akihiko soon resumed his stripping until he stood naked, each item of clothing neatly arranged on the bed he'd not slept in since the day of Misaki's abduction.

Akihiko sank down slowly to the floor in the middle of what he had dubbed his "Misaki Space." His bare ass bumped the cold floor and his balls contracted as they brushed the chilled surface. He drew his long legs up to his chest, wrapped lean arms around his shins, and bowed his head behind his knees. He struggled to quiet his anxiety-disordered mind.

The rational, logical part of his processing told him that Aikawa and Santo Justino were right: he needed to leave Misaki's rescue to the professionals. He'd spent all afternoon, trying to absorb every aspect of what was going on in the investigator's office.

Akihiko searched his photographic memory going over every image, every detail that had been pinned to one of the walls or flashed on one of the computers' screens.

While he was sorting through all this data, the animal part of his mind was raging.

_THIS FUCKER STOLE MY BOY! HE CUT OFF MISAKI'S FINGER! HE HAS TO PAY!_

Akihiko wrangled this mad part of himself into a cage in the corner of his mind. But he could still hear it pacing with every accelerating beat of his heart.

_TWO DAYS!_

Who knew what further horror could be inflicted in those eternal hours. And Akihiko feared this with his whole heart because he knew his Misaki was alive. He felt this with such burning certainty, it was a wonder he didn't combust where he sat.

Not only that, but bringing the police in as Santo Justino was doing, Akihiko knew there would be no vigilante justice. There would be a trial if the man, Villinski was apprehended. A long trial, no doubt, and who could say for sure the _FUCKER_ would even be convicted?

The idea of Misaki being subjected to this, on top of whatever other violations the boy had experienced, was too much. Akihiko felt tears of unmitigated fury well in his eyes at this. He felt his heart reel up and crash like a wave against the confines of his chest.

Anyone watching the man, however, would have no clue as to the roiling emotions that churned within him. Looking at him as he sat there, his breathing was even, his body completely still.

Akihiko remained like that for over two hours, until the shadows had lengthened and the sun rolled lazily down the horizon. Then he raised his pale head and blinked his amethyst eyes, returning to the surface of the world from the depths of his thoughts. Slowly he rose and moved over to his closet. He withdrew a lightweight, long sleeved, black shirt from within it and after this a pair of black pants.

"Artist clothes" Misaki had laughingly called such a uniform once, after he had begun dragging the boy to the openings of various art exhibitions.A bitter smile twisted Akihiko's sensual mouth at the memory.

Tonight these would serve a different kind of purpose.

Akihiko grabbed clean undergarments and then dressed quickly in the noir attire. He pulled on black socks and a pair of expensive black athletic shoes. Once his ensemble was completed, he reached up into the closet and pulled a duffel bag from its top shelf. Opening the bag, Akihiko rifled through it. He pulled out a cell phone he'd never used before and checked the charge. Opening it he placed a call.

"Yes, I'd like to rent a vehicle, something dark, black if possible. Four-wheel drive, sturdy and I need to be able to pick it up in an hour." The Portuguese he'd learned the last months as he'd searched for Misaki once again served him well and he was able to navigate this simple transaction, easily.

Akihiko pulled a wallet out with credit cards listed in another name. This was his emergency _Usami bag_, another thing he kept handy no matter where he traveled. All thanks to his father's wonderful parenting style.

His arrangements made, Akihiko closed the phone and put the wallet away. He knew he was being overly cautious, but with the technology that Santo Justino had and the fact that the man had obviously put a tail on him, he would rather be safe than sorry. He reached into the duffel and pulled out next a wicked knife in an ankle sheath and strapped that on. Another in a wrist sheath was also quickly added.

Akihiko then withdrew a Glock seveneteen handgun from the bag. He checked it over carefully. He quickly changed the seventeen round clip for the longer one holding thirty-three bullets. He tucked it into the shoulder holster he was not yet ready to slip on and then set this lethal get up back in duffel as well.

He'd bought the gun off of one of the bodyguards he'd hired to help him make his rounds passing out the fliers about Misaki. He still marveled at how easy it was to acquire a firearm here in comparison to Japan. After purchasing the gun, Akihiko had made the man take him out to a gun club to practice, until he was sure he knew all this weapon's particular eccentricities.

Despite his genteel appearance, he was actually no stranger to guns. His grandfather in England, where he was raised until the age of ten, was a bit of a gun freak, and by the time his father, the senior Usami, had come to spirit him away, he had already accompanied his grandfather on any number of hunts. Though in truth, he never had developed the same taste for blood as the old man.

Akihiko pulled a few other things from the bag: gadgets and smaller elements of his arsenal that he secreted in various places on his person. From what he had gathered by all the data available at Santo Justino's office, the man who had taken Misaki was incredibly smart and even more incredibly dangerous.

One more quick check of the bag made sure that he had everything that he needed. Akihiko took one more thing from the bag: a stapled document.

He set the sheaf of papers on the dresser and took up a pen from the dresser's top, wrote a few notes. It was a copy of his will leaving everything he owned to Misaki, if his lover was somehow recovered and he didn't make it.

Should both of them perish, Akihiko left everything to Hiroki. In either case he'd called and made an amendment a few weeks ago and added a significant amount of his wealth to go to Aikawa. He hoped if she ever found herself the recipient of this, it might communicate in some small part, how much her support during this ordeal meant to him.

Akihiko stepped back from the dresser and turned to go. Then he hesitated. He stood there motionless a minute and one of his large hands slowly drifted up to his throat. He caressed the locket he wore there. Then he brought his other hand up and with slightly shaking hands he reached around and undid the clasp on the chain.

He bowed his head and kissed the cool metal of the locket. "Misaki, I'm coming," he whispered. "Please wait for me, Love." With this, he stepped back up to the dresser and set the locket on top of his will.

Akihiko grabbed the bag off the bed and went into the room Aikawa was staying in. It had been designated Misaki's previously, though the boy never used it, except to hide out in occasionally when his ass got too worn from his horny rabbit's attentions.

Akihiko crept in and opened the closet. His nose caught a whiff of the delicate perfume Aikawa occasionally wore that lingered in the weave of her clothes. For some reason, despite all the sexual antics he'd engaged in over the course of his life, being in the editor's room without her knowledge, smelling this scent, made him suddenly feel sordid.

The author rooted around and found what he was looking for on the closet floor. Before coming to Garopaba, he and Misaki had spent a week in Rio de Janeiro where they had taken several rappelling classes before spending a day traveling over the surface of the Pedra do Urubu .

It had been a whim of Misaki's. Akihiko was only too happy to oblige: anything that would lift the youth's spirits and take his mind of the loss of his brother. Akihiko remembered how pleased he had been to see his sometimes apprehensive boy's eyes shine as he'd conquered the rock that day.

His heart ached with the memory.

Like most things Akihiko did, the event had not been conducted in moderation. He had indulged in buying both of them all the gear and the riggings for their adventure. Akihiko lifted the bag that held all of this. He gave a sad smile in vindication at this moment after all Misaki's chiding about the waste of money and the chaos caused by his hoarding tendencies.

Carrying this and the other satchel, Akihiko stepped out on to the patio. He picked up his pack of cigarettes and his lighter for one last fag.

He smoked the cigarette slowly, luxuriating in the nicotine rush. The tip of his smoke glowed orange as he took a pair of sleek, night-vision glasses from a pocket and slipped them on as he listened and watched for any observers. The sun had set now as a cool breeze was blowing in from the shore, stirring the heavy air. With one last curling gray exhale, Akihiko finished his cigarette and crushed it out. Then he set about quickly donning his harness and attaching the riggings to the condo's stout balcony railing.

He drew the duffel bag straps up onto his shoulders. He draped one lean leg over the railing. He knew what he was doing was mad, irresponsible, arrogant. But there was no way in hell he could bear the idea of Misaki being held somewhere, away from him, hurting, tortured, for one more bloody moment.

He hoped that Aikawa would forgive him for breaking his promise. One more in his long series of missed deadlines he supposed, though this time he would be premature rather than tardy.

Akihiko gave the cables that would be supporting him in the descent of the six stories of the building he was going to scale down, one more testing tug.

Satisfied at last, Akihiko offered the rising moon one more whisper of "Misaki." And with the name of his beloved still burning his lips, he took a deep breath and hurled himself over the edge.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry about the mixup folks, I got this and the last chapter out of order. Bad author… Damn.<strong>

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	19. Trace

**Days Without Sun **

**Chapter Nineteen: Trace**

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><p>Back at Santo Justino's office, Flynn yawned and stretched her lean arms. Aikawa and Augusto, who had been quietly talking drew up alongside her.<p>

"Any change?" Santo Justino asked. He peered over the reporter's shoulder at the blip on the screen that Flynn had been watching for the last three hours.

"Not a bit. The machine says he's still in the bedroom." Flynn sighed as she reached for her half-empty cup of coffee. "He must have gone back to his apartment and crashed, like he said he was going to."

Flynn glanced back at the screen and then she looked carefully at Aikawa as she ran her fingers through her short cropped hair. "Are you sure he didn't notice the tracking device you attached to the locket?"

Santo Justino frowned at Aikawa. "I still think that it was an unnecessary precaution. My men have the place staked out."

"Yes, but you don't know my author," Aikawa said firmly. "When it comes to Misaki, Usami-sensei is crazy. Surely you've noticed?"

Ignoring Santo Justino for a moment, Aikawa nodded her head slowly at Flynn. Her large eyes were serious. "I'm certain of it. He was too distraught to be paying that close of attention and besides the bug was minute."

"I was there," Santo Justino seconded. "I'm sure he didn't know. He's got a good pokerface, but not that good, especially when it comes to Eri," the P.I. mumbled.

Flynn offered Santo Justino a wry grin. "Yeah, she seems to affect a lot of men that way." The reporter's smile widened when her comment made both Aikawa and the detective blush.

"Look, Eri, why don't you get your things and I'll take you home," Santo Justino offered. "You've been going non-stop since yesterday and you could use some rest." He nodded at the screen in front of Flynn. "Besides then you can check on your sleeping author as well. Unless he's taken off that morbid token of his and flown the coop," Santo Justino's voice contained just a trace of jest.

"Not, likely," Aikawa said soberly. "He swore to me any number of times that until he found Misaki, the only thing that would separate him from that locket was death." She sighed after saying this and rubbed her forehead tiredly. "Augusto, I think I will go home for a bit, but you don't have to take me. I can catch a cab. I'm sure you have a million things to do here."

"Nonsense," Santo Justino growled. "I'll have my best man, Alvares, take over. We're playing a waiting game at the moment and I could use a bit of air."

Aikawa blushed a bit at this, but eventually nodded her head. "Let me get my purse."

As she walked over to one of the small conference rooms where she'd set her bag and light jacket earlier. On her way, she looked back over her shoulder and gave the detective a warm smile. Augusto simply nodded in return, but his eyes were glinting with pleasure.

Flynn caught the nonverbal exchange between the pair.

"So, _Santo Justino_," she murmured , breaking the man from his reverie. She paused a minute to sip her lukewarm coffee and then looked at the detective curiously. "You know, that's not a very Brazilian name."

"It's Spanish," the detective offered as he watched Aikawa traverse the room his eyes following the bounce of her chestnut hair and that of some other parts a bit lower. He looked over and saw the reporter had been watching him. He shrugged as if to say, _Yeah, I'm guilty._

Seeing that Flynn was still curious he sighed. "My mother went on a trip to Spain as a college student. She met my father there. When she told him she could never leave her family, the place of her birth, despite the fact she cared for him, he followed her home."

"That's sweet," Flynn looked less feral now that her ever-present curiosity had been momentarily satisfied.

"My father always said my mother took his heart with her. He would have followed her anywhere. Otherwise how else would he know that he was even alive?" Augusto glanced at the reporter. "Love is always worth pursuing."

Flynn watched Aikawa returning with her things. "Even if it takes you all the way to Japan?" She asked slyly.

Augusto offered the woman a vague smile and shrugged again "When one follows his heart, who knows where it will take him?" He nodded at Aikawa and stepped away from the desk Flynn was sitting at. "You should go home too, Flynn, and get some rest."

Flynn gave the detective a toothy smile, "And miss out on the story of a lifetime? No fucking way! I'm staying here until the cavalry charges!"

"American women," Santo Justino chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

* * *

><p>After transferring temporary control of the office to Alvares, Santo Justino not only drove Aikawa home, he escorted her up to the condo. He nodded at his men in the main lobby. "Any movement?" he asked as they waited for the elevator.<p>

"None, Sir. He hasn't been down since he returned and we have another man watching his door upstairs."

"Good, good." Santo-Justino murmured as he stepped into the elevator. When he saw that they were the only people in the car he moved over closer to Aikawa.

Aikawa looked at him, then she dropped her eyes slightly as he reached out his hand to brush a loose strand of hair from her forehead and traced his fingers down her cheek. The caramel tones of his long fingers were made richer in contrast with her pale skin.

"Stop, Augusto," Aikawa said softly placing a hand over the one that was now tenderly cupping her cheek. "Please."

She raised her eyes fearing irritation and saw only questioning.

"I just feel so guilty when your touch feels so good… not knowing where Misaki is for sure or what he's going through at this moment," Aikawa murmured; tears filled her large dark eyes.

With the thumb of his hand resting against Aikawa's pinking cheek, Santo Justino brushed away the single tear that she had allowed to escape.

"I understand, Eri, but in life we have only the certainty of this moment. And from what you have told me of Takahashi, I think he would be very sad to know that you were putting off your own happiness, when you have done all you can for him already." Santo Justino's tone was exceedingly gentle as he said this.

Aikawa dropped her gaze. She bit her bottom lip uncharacteristically to hold back the sob that had risen in her throat at the thought of her poor Misaki.

Santo Justino slid his hand down to Aikawa's delicate jaw and lifted her chin. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Always so strong, always looking after others. Why don't you let someone look after you for a while, Eri?" Santo Justino whispered before he claimed her lips in another tender embrace.

Aikawa felt more tears rise to the surface of her eyes. Santo Justino's words had touched a deep and aching place in her heart. As his mouth brushed hers, she opened herself to him hesitantly as she had the previous evening and once again felt her body flush at the man's warmth.

Just then two things happened simultaneously, the elevator door opened and Santo Justino's phone rang.

The detective pulled away from Aikawa reluctantly. He grimaced when he pulled out his phone and saw the number. "God damn it!" He muttered. "S.J. here. What have you got Alvares?"

Aikawa wiped her eyes with her hand as she stepped out into the quiet hallway. Santo Justino followed talking on the phone.

The detective's posted guard on the author's apartment was nowhere visible. Aikawa was grateful that no one was there when the elevator door had opened. It didn't matter how much she delighted in those moments when she'd happened unexpectedly on Misaki and Usami-Sensei, she had no desire to experience that kind of embarrassment herself. Not that it ever really seemed to embarrass Usami-san.

Aikawa wandered down the hall to the condo; Augusto trailed behind her, making concerned noises and speaking rapidly in Portuguese. Once she'd unlocked the door and they'd stepped in to the dark, quiet apartment she turned on a small light. Then she turned to Santo Justino with a worried expression.

The man held up his hand to her, indicating he wished for her to hold her questions.

Aikawa's eyes widened when she saw how grave the detective's face had become. "What's wrong, Augusto?" she whispered as soon as Santo Justino had closed his phone.

"The fingerprints Flynn nabbed came back already."

"But that's good right?" Aikawa asked nervously. "You had thought originally that it was going to take much longer."

Santo Justino shook his head. "The prints came back so quickly because they belong to a very bad man, Eri," he said soberly.

"How bad?" Aikawa breathed.

Santo Justino had always been a very straightforward man. "One of the worst. He's an international fugitive wanted in Russia, several countries in Europe, and Japan."

Aikawa's face went pale at this news. "What is he wanted for?"

The P.I. looked down at the ground for a moment, unable to meet her gaze. He raised his eyes when he felt Aikawa's delicate fingers suddenly grasp his wrist and tighten around it in a surprisingly iron grip.

"What is Villinski wanted for, Augusto?" Aikawa repeated in her editor's voice. Her volume was low but the demand in her tones let him know she would not tolerate his silence.

"His name isn't Villinski," the detective sighed. "It's Valdimir Korovin and he's wanted for the unauthorized construction of chemical weapons, bio terrorism, genetic manipulation, the production of illegal drugs and crimes against humanity which include kidnapping, unlawful medical experimentation, rape, mutilation, and torture." Santo Justino recited the list without emotion as it had been relayed to him by Alvares.

Aikawa's hands had flown to cover her mouth as she gasped in horror not even a third of the way through the tally of Korovin's offenses. "Misaki," she said in a strangled voice as her eyes filled with new tears.

"Go wake up your author! We need to get back to the office as soon as possible!" Santo Justino said nodding in the direction of Akihiko's room. "This is way out of our league. Alvares has called higher authorities and they're already on their way. Mr. Usami is going to get the firestorm he wanted, a lot earlier than any of us imagined."

Aikawa immediately stumbled towards Akihiko's room without even bothering to take off her shoes. She moved mechanically, knowing that if she stopped her motions she would simply collapse. She opened the door to the darkened bedroom. She could hardly see through her tears.

"Usami Sensei!" Aikawa choked as she turned on the light.

She wiped her eyes as she saw the clothes the man had been wearing earlier laid out on the bed. She stepped cautiously over to Akihiko's "Misaki" space, half expecting to see him curled there on the floor, naked as she'd found him the first day she'd arrived.

"Usami Sensei?"

Nothing: the room was empty.

As she turned in confusion, a rising sense of fear gripped her chest. Aikawa's gaze fell on the dresser. "No!" She cried, rushing up to it and picking up the locket.

Santo Justino had stayed in the entry and lit up a cigarette, believing Aikawa would know how best to manage Usami. He imagined she would bring the author out and allow him to break this terrible news.

Hearing the woman's strained voice, however, Santo Justino dashed to the bedroom door. "Eri?" he shouted, worriedly.

Coming in he saw Aikawa sitting on the edge of the bed, a sheaf of papers in one hand, Akihiko's locket in the other.

"What?" Augusto barked in confusion.

Aikawa looked up at him through her tears. She dangled the locket from thin fingers and rattled the papers softly. "He's gone… this is his will!" she gasped.

"What do you mean he's gone? My men!... The tracer!... I had every exit covered!" No sooner had he said this than the breeze from the open balcony door stirred his raven hair. Santo Justino turned slowly.

"Oh, fuck!" He breathed as he lurched for the apartment's balcony.

Realizing what the detective had deduced, Aikawa wailed "No!" and dashed after him.

In an instant the pair found themselves staring in stunned silence at the dangling ropes that were skillfully tied to the steel railing. "That stupid, arrogant fuck!" Santo Justino growled as he ran his fingers over one of the strong cords.

Aikawa looked at Augusto. "What did you say?" she asked since the P.I.'s curse had been in Portuguese.

Santo Justino looked at Aikawa's tear-stained face, then down at the ground below the balcony.

His mind filled suddenly with all the things he'd told Flynn earlier. _How is a man to know if he is even alive if his heart isn't with him? Love is always worth pursuing. When one follows his heart, who knows where it will take him_?

Usami Akihiko had gone in search of his heart.

Santo Justino raised his weary eyes to Aikawa. "I said: _the poor bastard has absolutely no idea what he's gotten himself into_."

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and please review.<strong>


	20. Penetrated

**Days Without Sun **

**Chapter Twenty: Penetrated**

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><p>Akihiko drove by Korovin's estate and about a mile past it he turned around. He killed the lights on the black Ford EcoSport he'd rented, pulled his night vision glasses on, and headed back.<p>

There were other estates in this area, but around each were vast tracts of lush jungled forest. The inhabitants of the various mansions owned these as well and guarded the land aggressively, as their privacy was of the utmost importance.

From what he had learned studying the materials at Santo Justino's office, the perimeter of Korovin's estate grounds were largely unguarded, with the exception of a few widely interspersed security cameras and the ones on the main gate.

Akihiko felt Korovin was perhaps a bit overconfident, though the place was surrounded by a massive eight-foot stone wall. Atop the rock extended another four feet of wrought-iron, scalloped trim fencing; its top punctuated by sharp lethal looking spear-shaped points.

And of course, once one got over the fence there were the dogs to deal with. A dozen Brazilian mastiffs peppered with a few Dobermans patrolled the grounds, if the detective's information was good. Then closer into the property the placement of cameras became much more regular and there was a small contingent of about half a dozen armed staff in addition to regulars that ran the man's household.

From what he'd overheard at the PI's office it sounded like these human watchdogs were mostly ex-police or military.

Akihiko knew he was full of himself at times, but not so much so as to think the few times he and Misaki had played paintball commando or laser tag would give him any edge here. He knew he was clearly outmanned and out-gunned.

He frowned as he considered this.

He pulled off the road, shifted the Sport into four-wheel drive, and using the coordinates on his GPS in the dash, began to slowly press into the dense foliage. Soon he was inching the car cautiously just out of camera sight to one of the three blind spots one of Justino's men had identified along the outer wall.

Akihiko pulled the Sport right up alongside the stoned boundary scraping the side of the car.

_What the hell do I care? It's just a rental after all._

Akihiko turned off the car. He'd already pulled all the wires to the vehicles internal lighting and all its various bells and whistles, another reason he wasn't too worried about the scratches on the side of the Sport. He slid out and opened the door to the back seat and pulled out his duffle bag, along with a few other things he'd purchased.

Akihiko then drew out the gun he loaded earlier, attached the glock's silencer, and slipped this into the holster he pulled on over his broad shoulders. He then set the duffle bag on the roof of the car. Next to this went a heavy, dark colored wool blanket. Lastly Akihiko pulled out a small but powerful portable Oxy Acetylene unit. Slinging the strap for the canister pack on his shoulder he agilely leapt on to the vehicle's hood and was soon standing on the roof of the car.

Standing on the top of the Sport, Akihiko had easy access to the fence. He peered over the wall and around as a precautionary measure. Seeing nothing that would alert Korovin to his presence, Akihiko took a fifty centavo coin from his pocket and snapped it at the iron fence before him. The metal hit with a soft clink and fell without another sound in to the foliage below.

Akihiko breathe a sigh of relief, the humid evening air sitting heavy in his lungs. They had said it wasn't electrified, but that it had that capability. Akihiko praised the gods for this consistency and hoped that his luck would continue to hold out.

Bending and picking up the blanket from the roof of the car. Akihiko threw it over the spikes so that it fell over the other side creating a blind. He slipped out another pair of goggles from the duffle bag and strapped them to the top of his head.

He ran through the checklist again of the things the man had told him at the welding supply store where he'd secured the tanks. Akihiko knew on so many levels that what he was attempting to do was madness, but he would have gone even more insane if he'd had to sit around and wait for one more second.

He turned the knob on the gas tank on low. Then Akihiko grabbed the striker attached to the unit and watched the flint spark. He couldn't help but jump at the pop as the gas caught. He turned the gas up and then twisted the knob on the adjacent oxygen tank. He watched the yellow flame shift to blue. He swallowed hard and stepped up to the metal fence.

It was sturdy, but not overly thick, thankfully. Akihiko pulled the self-darkening shades down over his eyes and then used his left hand to push the blanket out so that he didn't burn his cover. He angled the cutting tip against the base of the bars. He figured given the distance between them he'd need to cut three to make enough space to slip through.

Akihiko watched as the metal became molten. He depressed the handle on the cutting torch and an extra bit of air blasted from the oxy tank through the tip, the burst pushed the molten material aside, making the cut. It was nowhere near as clean as the one the shopkeeper had made after he'd given him extra money for a live demonstration, but it would do.

Akihiko's mind suddenly went to Misaki's finger again. Between the sparks he cursed Villinski and suddenly found himself wondering how this apparatus might work on human flesh.

* * *

><p>Inside the compound, deep in his underground lair, Korovin was glowing. He sat in one of his many office spaces going over the results of his latest tests. All thirteen of his captives had now been successfully infected. In less than three months he'd be able to move to stage two of his project. Korovin grinned as he glanced at the display screen beside his desk. His pale eyes flickered over the image of a dozen blanketed forms in the dim dormitory he'd fashioned for his boys.<p>

A brutal smile split his face, scanning over all his toys, carefully bundled, laying silent in their sickbeds.

Their fevers were raging, bodies aching, just as he'd planned. He supposed that some of them might be weathering this part of the virus better if he hadn't been playing with them so roughly prior to their infection. But what was the fun in that?

Korovin felt an electric thrill go through him. Even if not all of these subjects made it, there would be others. The Doc leaned back in his chair, his pelvis slid forward in the seat. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes in ecstasy.

The only problem he was having was, with some of the boys being as ill as they were, cleaning up after them was becoming such a bother. It was eating into his other activities but he didn't trust any of his staff with the importance of the work he was doing.

Korovin grimaced, and a low growl issued from his throat_. That stupid escape plan that Jadir and Takahashi tried and its results certainly set me back._ He hadn't found another boy he trusted enough to take over all Jadir's previous duties. The sadist gritted his teeth to keep from crying out his frustration, but the wave passed and he issued a sigh as the pleasing warmth of his success washed back over him. He knew how he could get back on track now.

"Jadir," Korovin sighed, pushing himself away from the desk.

A dark head followed his movement, mouth still attached to the mad doctor's shrinking penis as the youth stiffly crawled out from under the desk after him.

"You may release now," Korovin said coolly. He watched as Jadir drew back and his spent member slipped from between the teen's bruised lips with a slick slurping sound. Korovin brushed a cummy string of saliva from Jadir's bottom lip.

"Your skill never ceases to amaze me, my boy. There are days I am almost happy I saved you… Almost." Korovin chuckled.

Jadir said nothing. He kept his eyes on the floor.

Korovin watched the youth carefully and instantly noted the change in the boy's color. Without a word he reached over and grabbed a small waste basket next to him. He quickly shoved it in front of the kneeling youth and just in time as Jadir leaned over it and began to violently retch.

Korovin reached out for the teen when the boy was done but continued to linger over the container. He grabbed ahold of Jadir's close-cropped black hair and lifted his head. "I told you to tell me when you felt sick, you stupid cunt! I don't want your spew all over me or my space!" Korovin slapped Jadir hard with the hand not in his hair.

Jadir absorbed the blow. His tears fell, but the youth said nothing. "Tie that bag off!" Korovin ordered, the smell of the teen's come-filled vomit, offended even his medically calloused nose.

The Doc pushed himself back in his chair. He watched Jadir struggle to tie the plastic liner with the thumb and two fingers that remained to him. His eyes studied the boy's other arm, the roughly scarred caramel stump that ended at the elbow.

Finally growing impatient with the youth's frantic fumbling, Korovin leaned forward again, snatched the liner from Jadir's tortured hand, and tied it off himself.

"Honestly, Jadir!" He chided and his heart thrilled to watch the youth shrink from him. "If I'd known how useless you'd be with one hand, I might have tried harder to save the other."

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><p>As he said this Korovin remembered how it was, springing up those stairs the day of the escape, after throwing Takahashi down. He'd dashed out onto the grounds after Jadir, knowing in his battered condition the boy wouldn't get far. He'd feared for a moment he'd lost the youth but then he quickly located Jadir by the anguished screams. He'd run forward knowing that the dogs had found him.<p>

Fortunately, it was only one of his dozen Fila Brasileiros. Despite his few fingers, Jadir managed to climb halfway up onto the low hanging branch of one of the estate's massive trees. Still, the dog had him by the calf. Jadir cried out as the huge mastiff's powerful bite hit bone.

Seeing this Korovin shrieked the "stop" command out to the dog but the hound had tasted blood and was oblivious to his master's calls.

The mastiff pulled Jadir from the tree. The instant the boy hit the ground, Jadir had raised his hands to protect his face and throat. He'd curled his thin legs up to his belly. The dog had lunged in and grabbed one of the teen's fragile hands, what was left of it, crushing it instantly. It shifted its grip up the boy's forearm as Jadir lost consciousness from the pain.

Without thinking about it twice, Korovin vaulted for a pitchfork left behind in a nearby plant-bed by one of the gardeners. He ran forward and plunged this into the dog's side. The mastiff had released the boy's broken arm. It raised its head and gave its master a rather accusatory look before quietly toppling over.

Korovin was standing there panting over the dog with the bloody boy in his arms as two of his guards suddenly appeared, drawn by Jadir's screams.

"Local urchin! Bloody, ragamuffin thieves! Haul that fucking beast away and burn it!" he screamed kicking the dead dog's side. "I want a handler here this afternoon to review with the pack what a fucking 'stop' command means!" Korovin spat at the men before he'd disappeared bearing away Jadir's body.

The men had shrugged and went to work taking the dog's body away. After all, this wasn't the first unfortunate to find its way into the Doctor's estate and then be spirited away. What did they care about one less thief? They would have killed him anyway themselves: that was what they were paid for. Only difference was that under their hands the death might have been a bit more merciful.

Korovin rushed Jadir back into the lab. The teen had been losing blood so quickly. He made the snap decision to take the boy's arm as the damage was so extensive. Once he'd done this and stitched the torn flesh of Jadir's leg he moved Jadir into another room, hooked up the necessary IV's, pain meds, and antibiotics. He'd known that only time would tell if his oldest pet would stabilize.

It was only, then once he'd secured Jadir, that he'd gone back to retrieve Takahashi. The boy had still been unconscious, thankfully. He'd picked Takahashi up and carried him to the same room he'd used for Jadir, sweeping the Brazilian boy's amputated limb into a bin after arranging Takahashi on the room's other table. He'd set to work immediately to ascertain his Japanese toy's damage.

He'd been so furious at the two youths, their foolish plan to escape, the unnecessary trauma and all they had jeopardized with their idiocy he vowed to inflict such retribution that neither would ever forget the cost of breaking this rule.

* * *

><p>Returning from his memories, Korovin focused on Jadir again: his petite Brazilian angel. The boy was far more sturdy than he appeared. He had survived the trauma and his arm, fortunately, was the only thing that he'd lost.<p>

Knowing Takahashi's weaknesses as he'd learned from the months of torturing the boy and extracting his secrets: telling him Jadir was dead had been such a beautiful punishment.

Korovin smiled at Jadir. This, more than his master's angry tones or his blows made the boy cringe.

Korovin leaned back in his chair. "Come sit with me a moment, pet," he coaxed.

The battered boy rose slowly, knowing that as gentle as this sounded it was still a command. He limped unsteadily towards his captor, permanently hobbled now from the dog's attack, his bitten leg still cast.

As he moved forward, Korovin's smile grew wider seeing the small but noticeable bump in the boy's belly that had appeared not long after the escape attempt and seemed to be becoming ever more pronounced with each passing day. The Doc had been both surprised and delighted that Jadir was showing so early.

He'd infected Jadir months ago, his first human subject. Well, first successful human subject. There had been others before the Brazilian teen.

Jadir had "caught" quickly after the initial phase of the infection. Korovin didn't know if the child the teen was carrying was his or not, he'd made so many of his toys fuck him as well. Not that it mattered. The most important thing was Jadir was pregnant and when the others were fertile, after his beautiful virus had changed their biology, all the rest of his boys would soon be too. Only then, he would definitely be the father: the generator of a never ending toy-box.

"Come sit with me, darling," Korovin patted his still-exposed and disheveled lap.

Jadir shambled over and settled against the man as he knew was expected. Even as he sat there he could feel Korovin's wilted member reviving against him.

The sadist scooted the chair with the two of them in it closer to the desk. He picked Jadir's teeth up from off their paper covered surface and watched with satisfaction as the boy easily opened up so that they could be returned to his mouth.

"I think you're well enough recovered at last to go back to work, don't you?" Korovin purred running his cruel fingers through the teen's damp raven bangs.

Obediently Jadir nodded.

"Good, boy."

Korovin felt himself growing harder as the scarred flesh of his favorite plaything's ass pressed against him. "Before I send you off, what do you say you bend that big belly of yours over the table and let me give you a proper fucking this time?" He chuckled at the shiver that shook Jadir's thin, scarred body.

As Jadir stood up and numbly moved to comply to his captor's request, Korovin glimpsed over at his monitor again. The madman saw a slight stirring in Takahashi's bed. Maybe he'd go with Jadir to the incubator. He couldn't wait to see Takahashi's face when he saw Jadir was alive.

He had already decided that once Jadir delivered and replaced himself, he really would kill the boy in front of Takahashi just for the fun of it, but for now, playing with his Japanese toy offered the potential of so much renewed fun.

Then Korovin cast his eyes back over at Jadir. The youth was standing bent over the desk, legs spread; the blunt end of his amputated arm holding him up off the desk's surface to protect his belly. The other reaching round as he'd been trained to pull his cheeks apart, displaying his abused portal.

The Doc found the asymmetry of the image somewhat displeasing. He sighed at this.

_I really should have tried to save Jadir's other hand. _

Even with this little aesthetic annoyance, a cruel grin formed on his face. Korovin rose and moved forward, spitting into his palm and pumping his hard cock. He gave a pleasured groan as he pressed up against Jadir a moment later and heard the music of the boy's muffled sob as he was entered too quickly.

Korovin considered all he'd accomplished, his new viral masterpiece and the endless bounty the future held for him. As he began to thrust, the sounds of Jadir cries soothed him and Korovin thought in this moment his world felt pretty fucking perfect.

He grunted looking down at the scared back of the teen beneath him.

He began to thrust faster.

_Too bad perfection is such a fleeting thing._

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><p><strong>Sorry for the earlier chapter mix up. It's fixed now.<strong>

**So here you have a bit of a surprise, neh? Poor Jadir… **

**Thank you for reading and please review.**


	21. Adversary

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Twenty One: Adversary**

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><p>Akihiko was braced up against one of the large trees on the estate's grounds. He was sweating like hell despite the cool evening breeze. The author was currently doing his best to focus on his breathing, though the sounds of the approaching hounds made it difficult. His night vision glasses scanned the black garden surrounding him, his adrenaline-heightened senses attuned to every noise. He kept his gun cocked and ready and when the first beast broke through the brush, he didn't hesitate to pull the trigger.<p>

The growling hound went down with a short yelp and a dull thud. Three of its brothers followed in rapid succession. Akihiko dropped each one with a practiced grace, placing each shot as mercifully as possible. He knew he should have felt a twinge of regret, but he didn't. He'd already spent that on the human guard he'd shot within minutes of entering Villinski's jungled lair.

Akihiko shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the guard's startled look when he'd come across his path making his rounds_. I will feel my regret and remorse later. Right now I can only focus on finding my Misaki._

Once the silence resumed and he was sure that no one had been alerted to his presence, Akihiko picked up the small duffle he'd brought with him and resumed his movement forward towards the outbuilding that Santo Justino had speculated would be the most likely place for Villinski to keep any prisoners. This was the bunker that contained all the tunnels and subterranean rooms.

Akihiko's already taxed heart picked up its pace. _Misaki is here!_ He felt more convinced with each thundering pulse. He was certain he'd find his boy tonight, though he refused to entertain in what condition.

"Misaki," Akihiko murmured, as he ducked into the underbrush. "Please hold tight, love, your Rabbit is coming for you."

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><p>Korovin was kicked back in his office; his time with Jadir had been pleasurable as usual. The fact his boy was pregnant just added to the transgressive thrill of his violation. The Doc could hardly wait to impregnate his remaining dozen subjects. He sighed contentedly as he reached for the pack of cigarettes on the edge of his desk.<p>

Never had the future looked so promising.

As he lit up and took a drag, his eyes drifted to the monitor recording the boys' ward. Jadir should be showing up there any minute.

He had been feeling generous after giving the battered teen such a profound fucking, so he'd offered Jadir a chance to shower and clean up before attending to the rest of his toys.

Watching the quiet beds, Korovin decided that once Jadir had gotten the room and the other youths cleaned up, he might go in and pick out a few playthings to entertain himself with for the remainder of the night. After all, with the success of this newest experiment he was feeling in rather a celebratory mood.

Korovin sighed as the phone on his desk rang. (His extensive laboratory, constructed as it was, did not allow for cell access).

_Nothing like a call from the incompetents above to kill a perfectly good buzz._ Korovin sighed as he picked up the phone.

"What?" he barked into the receiver.

"Sir, this is Vasca…"

Korovin cut the other man off. "You know I do not like to be disturbed when I am in the lab!"

"Ah, yes Sir, but there's a situation you should be made aware of. Did you not tell us you want to sign off on any perceived intruders?" the man's voice on the other end of the line was tense.

Korovin's brow rose at this. It was true; early on he'd issued that decree to his security staff when one of them had shot another boy who'd foolishly tried to escape his clutches, thinking the youth a thief. Besides, he'd found real intruders made wonderful, if short lived, playthings as long as his guards or the dogs didn't damage them too much when they caught them.

It had been a while since anyone had tried to truly breach his stronghold. Korovin smiled, this was just the type of distraction he'd been craving.

"What camera is the intruder on, Vasca?" Korovin put down his cigarette and slid his chair over closer to his desk's computer.

"Twenty-seven was where he was last spotted, Sir. It looks as though he's heading right to the south door of your laboratory. Would you like us to intercept him? I've sent out a team to see how he got in, but we haven't made a move on him yet, otherwise. We're on standby here and awaiting your order."

Korovin switched his surveillance settings and scanned the outside. His eyes widened with shock as he saw a figure step out of the brush. As soon as Akihiko took off his night vision goggles and squinted into the light over one of the laboratory's entrances, Korovin recognized him immediately.

"Well, I'll be fucked…" he breathed recognizing the author. An amused smile twisted his lips. Just then Korovin heard a commotion on the other end of the line.

"Sir, Passos just called and Cabral is dead! Apparently this man has shot four of your dogs as well. I'm sending the team to converge on him immediately!"

"You'll do no such thing!" Korovin snarled. "Call the men off!"

"But, Sir…"

"DO IT NOW!" The Doc roared. He was incensed that anyone would dare question him. After a moment of silence on the other end, Korovin cleared his throat and began in a voice that was quiet and composed again. "Vasca, you tell the men I don't want them anywhere near him. I am going to take care of this one personally. And Vasca…"

"Yes, sir?"

"Once you have informed them of my decree, get the fuck off my property. You're fired. Pass this information on to the rest of the men when you speak with them and let them know that if any of them interfere here they can expect a far less forgiving dismissal."

"Yes, sir," Vasca replied tersely. "Understood."

Korovin hung up. He would have liked to have had a few moments to relish the barely contained rage in Vasca's voice, but there was simply too much to do now.

He grabbed his travel laptop from the edge of the desk and made a few quick taps. He entered his security suite and disabled the laboratory's primary alarm system. Then he coursed through the layout and entered and deleted a few things. This completed, he grinned as he closed his notebook and pushed himself up away from the desk. He felt a surge of white heat as a wave of adrenaline coursed through him. He wondered how Usami had found him.

Korovin felt almost giddy with excitement… _at last a worthy adversary!_

He tucked the laptop under his arm and headed off down the corridor at a brisk clip. His first stop would be one of his labs, he had a few supplies to get. The next would be the boys' ward. He needed to pick up the prize for this night's game…

One Takahashi Misaki.

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><p><strong>Alcuzey, glad you're enjoying the badassery! <strong>

**Jackattack456- Thank you for chiming in and so glad you like my story.  
><strong>

**Sweet Flamingo so happy to see a review from you here. I do hope to post a new chapter once all the previous ones are re-uploaded. Hope my chapter mixup didn't confuse you.**

**SilentStare- Sorry to ruin you FF for you...though not really. Thank you for your kind words and I'll keep it coming as best I can.  
><strong>

**The rest of you...thank you for reading, the alerts and the favorites and please review... Only three more reviews to reach 400.**


	22. Answered

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Answered**

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><p>Aikawa and Santo Justino were on their way back to his office. Aikawa was driving; navigating the night traffic of the city with skillful haste while beside her the detective sat talking on his cell. He'd jumped on the horn the moment they'd realized Akihiko had escaped their observation and hadn't been off since.<p>

He'd had his people call all the car rental vendors in town, since the author's regular rental was still in the condo's parking lot. A camera in one of the businesses showed the author not long after Santo Justino estimated Akihiko's time of departure from the condo.

Stopped at a light and the pair waited tensely, Santo Justino glanced over at Aikawa. He was on hold as Alvarez called the higher authorities, alerting them to this turn of events. Aikawa looked back and offered him a tight-lipped smile.

Just then his second jumped back on the line; Alvarez's voice was somber. "I've talked to the international team, they have already dispatched two commando units to the estate. They should be arriving at the grounds in less than an hour." Alvarez hesitated and then dropped his voice. "We've got the GPS for the vehicle Mr. Usami rented too now and, just as you suspected, he's at Korovin's. I have Silva reconfiguring the satellite surveillance now, we've been focusing on the ground's main buildings."

Aikawa watched Augusto's expression as the news came in. Her eyes widened when she suddenly heard a loud exclamation from the man on the other end of the phone.

"Fuck, S.J! Silva's found him and Usami's just dropped one of Korovin's security. This situation is about to go bat shit pronto here!"

"God damn cowboy!" Santo Justino snarled in frustration. "That fucking kamikaze asshole is not just going to get himself killed; he's going to botch this whole operation!

"Look, you have Silva keep an eye on him and keep me apprised. Meantime you call the incoming teams and tell them the situation has changed and there's a rogue civilian wreaking havoc!"

"Got it!" Alvarez said and in the background Santo Justino could hear the office mobilizing for action.

Though the light had changed, Aikawa hadn't moved. "What's happening?" she demanded having only understood Augusto's angry "kamikaze".

Santo Justino's eyes were blazing. He switched to English. "Your author's gone postal, he thinks he's fucking Clint Eastwood! I have to get out to Korovin's now!" Santo Justino's eyes widened when at these words, Aikawa suddenly hit the gas and pulled a sharp U turn halfway through the intersection, seeming completely unfazed by the horns and curses that erupted around her.

"What the hell are you doing, Eri?" Santo Justino gasped as he involuntarily grabbed for the dashboard.

"I'm getting us to Korovin's, what do you think I'm doing?" Aikawa snapped back sharply, her lovely face now set in a look of hard determination. "You need to stay on the phone and track what's happening. You can't do that and drive effectively and I remember how to get there, so that's that!"

"You shouldn't be there during this," One of Santo Justino's large hands covered hers as she gripped the steering wheel, white knuckled.

Aikawa's taut expression loosened a bit at his touch. "I am more than willing to be here, Augusto. I have been working with Usami-sensei for years now and he's not just my author, he's a dear friend, even if he is an incorrigible ass and a huge idiot!"

Augusto, felt his admiration for the woman beside him swell as he watched Aikawa begin to fiercely wend her way through the traffic.

He only looked away when a new voice came on the line a minute or so later. It was Silva. "S.J., the situation has just escalated. Usami's somehow breached the bunker. He's in."

* * *

><p>Akihiko stood outside the door to the building where he hoped Misaki was being held. He watched the camera over the entrance as he dug through the duffel and pulled out a small device. He'd gotten all the information from the detective's office he could about Villinski's set up and had put together a supply list in his head on the way back to the condo. One thing about crawling through the underbelly of Garopaba as he had, looking for Misaki, was that he'd met a hell of a lot of "interesting" people.<p>

Some of these were the kinds of individuals who could "get things."

Before he'd left the resort, Akihiko had placed a few strategic calls and not long after he'd picked up the Eco-sport he met up with a few of these people. The author looked down at the device in his hands and thought about the irony of this situation. He would have never known such a thing existed if it hadn't been for his Misaki.

He grinned bitterly.

Not long after Misaki had moved in with him, he had learned that in addition to his lover's questionable taste in manga the boy also had a penchant for heist and spy stories. As a result, Akihiko had written a tale that combined both of these genres for Misaki's twentieth birthday as a present.

With his normal meticulous attention to detail, he'd researched every aspect of this novel, acquiring all sorts of information, which while it had struck him at times during this process as tiresome or amusing, it was now turning out to be invaluable.

Akihiko pointed the device at the camera and pressed a button. No sooner had he done this than the light indicating the feed on this eye in the sky began to blink. He had three minutes now while the feed was disrupted to get in through the door.

The man scrambled to the entry and though he expected an alarm to sound any minute due to his tampering, he attacked the door's control panel.

A few cordless screwdriver twist later, a couple clipped wires, and some new connections with another little gadget, sequences of e numbers were flashing rapidly on a minute screen held in his hand, the number becoming still when the micro-computer determined it had found the right key in that sequence.

"Come on, you bastard!" Akihiko urged under his breath as the last set of numbers continued to flash. His heart was thundering in his ears and he was drenched with sweat. He was still having a hard time believing he'd made it this far.

"That's it, bitch, give it up now." The author's face took on a grave smirk as the last set of digits in the code slipped into place. "Brilliant," he breathed. Punching a button on the device he held entering the numbers into the panel, Akihiko heard the most beautiful sound in the world next to Misaki's voice… the click of a latch releasing.

Akihiko slipped in and looked down the long flight of stairs before him. He located the next camera and used his electronic magic again before he began to descend the stairs.

A shiver shook him as he heard the door close behind him. He fought to commit the sequence of numbers from the door into his memory, hoping that perhaps Vallinski was lazy enough to repeat the code if he came across any other such key pads in his search.

Akihiko felt the heavy air grow cooler with each step down he dropped into the man's lair. As he reached the base of the stairs he turned and saw a long corridor ahead of him, more cameras and another armed door. He sighed and reached in the bag for the devices again, but not before looking down and noticing the curiously stained pattern on the pale grout in between the tiles.

The author straightened at this, and his eyes narrowed at the large, dark, rust-colored patch that almost matched the terracotta tiles. He stepped over this, a small prayer on his lips, to who, he had no idea. Crossing this, a shiver coursed through him and he momentarily felt as though he'd just walked over someone's grave.

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><p>Jadir was limping his way to the incubator to carry out his master's orders. The youth's eyes were downcast as he focused on walking, his ass ached painfully. Not to mention that even after all these weeks, his leg still throbbed fiercely where the dog had mauled him. The walking cast he wore did nothing to ease the hurt of his cracked bones. Still neither of these torments were anywhere near as excruciating as the random cramps he had rather frequently in the hand that no longer existed.<p>

Jadir ran his remaining fingers through his still shower-damp hair. Though he'd just bathed he was already sweating, despite the cool temperature of the catacombs. He leaned against a wall in the hallway he was traversing as another wave of nausea swept over him. He seemed to feel sick all the time these days. The youth looked down at his protruding belly and felt tears well up quickly.

Jadir wiped his leaking eyes with the back of his hand and wondered once again what it was he'd done to make God abandon him in this way. He had always been a good catholic; he had even been an altar boy. It was this background that in no small part had kept him from attempting to kill himself for so long.

He wondered if all that had happened to him was God's punishment for the fact he'd always be drawn to other boys instead of girls. Though he before his capture he'd believed the God of his trust would understand and was not as vindictive of such inclinations as the priests had made out. He'd wondered constantly since being taken if he hadn't been wrong.

When he'd woken up after his attempt to escape and found his tattered arm gone, he had finally resolved that ending up in hell (whether for killing himself or being gay) had to be better than this this place. This was a thought he'd had often during his time of captivity but never before dared to act on. Somehow though, Korovin had known what he was thinking, for it was not long after he'd regained consciousness that the man told him of the other life he was now responsible for.

Jadir's knees buckled as his grief overwhelmed him. Was he carrying Korovin's monster inside him? Or did this baby belong to one of his fellow captives? He hated himself for the wave of anger that washed over him towards this innocent being that was now keeping him here, regardless. Suicide was one thing, being gay another, but Jadir could not stand before his God as a murderer of an innocent as well.

_But if we live…_

Jadir let out a gasping sob at the thought of their fate.

Kneeling on the hard floor, Jadir tried to push himself back up, but he found he simply couldn't. His heart began to pound within his scarred chest and he trembled as he considered the punishment his master would visit on him if he didn't show up for his chores in the proper amount of time.

The youth's already shattered heart splintered further as the weight of his hopelessness crashed down on him. Jadir bowed his head. How often he'd wished he could abandon his God and be free of the weight of his actions, but try as he might, he just couldn't… Until now.

_Dear Father, this is the last prayer I will ever make to you. I have at last run out. Please… God… kill me or save me... I mean us... Kill us of save us... I beg you."_

As always, after making his petition, though he knew it was childish, Jadir waited. His ears strained for the noise of his long hoped for miracle. Salvation or destruction he didn't care which. He felt a new wave of sobs wrack his battered frame as silence continued to reign in the hallways surrounding him.

Unfortunately in his sickened state, the jarring of his sobs soon set him to retching. Jadir curled himself tighter as the last of his captor's foul seed poured out of him.

Once he'd stopped heaving and regained his breath, Jadir remained still a moment. Never in his life had the boy felt so completely empty and alone: out of hope, out of prayers, and now out of tears as well. He drew one of his last two thin fingers through the glistening pool of spew and sperm on the floor before him.

Jadir rubbed the viscous fluid between his two remaining fingers with his thumb. He studied it with detachment.

Jadir sighed in complete resignation.

He shakily pushed himself up off the floor, knowing he needed to clean this up now too, in addition to the tasks waiting for him at the incubator. Jadir staggered slightly as he made his way to the nearest utility closet to get a mop. Rounding the corner, he stopped.

His jaw dropped open and his eyes popped at the lavender-eyed apparition that suddenly appeared before him. Jadir gasped and stumbled. Tumbling forward, he felt the strong arms of the being he'd called forth with his last prayer envelop him as he fell.

_Angel or demon_, Jadir thought as blackness overtook him, _it doesn't matter._

His God had finally heard him.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and please review.<strong>


	23. Distractions

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Twenty Three: Distractions**

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><p>Vasca drove up his former employer's driveway, revving the engine on his Montana in anger.<p>

_Who the fuck does Villinski think he is?_

The former military man was pissed. _You hire someone to look out for you and then fire him when he does his job? _

Vasca silently fumed. He pulled up to the end of the stone drive and punched in the code for the heavy double gates. He lit a cigarette and blew his breath out harshly after taking his first drag, impatiently waiting for the slow swinging metal wings to open completely.

Now that his contract had been terminated with that arrogant foreign douche bag, he couldn't wait to get the hell away from the estate.

The money had been great but he'd seen too much creepy shit since he'd started working for Villinski six months ago to believe it was just drugs the man was involved in now, despite what he'd been told.

Not to mention one of the day shift crew had told him just a few days back about some boy who'd gotten onto the grounds a few weeks before that the dogs had mauled. Apparently his Villinski had just happened to be there and had carried the kid off. No one on the security team had seen the supposed thief or heard anything about him since. That whole scenario struck the ex-soldier as decidedly hinky

As Vasca headed out of the entry to the estate he noticed another car approaching, coming from the direction of the city. He frowned at this, noticing the car didn't have its lights on and slowed when the driver saw him pull forward. Vasca flashed his lights at the driver. One to let them know their lights were of and second to get a better look.

Few cars traveled down these semi-private roads this time of night and as his keen eyes noticed the make, he knew that whoever was driving that kind of economy car didn't belong running around in this wealthy part of Garopaba.

Despite the fact all his senses, honed from years of combat, were tingling, Vasca purposely didn't look inside the oncoming car as he passed it. "Not my problem anymore," he muttered to himself. Still he couldn't help but glance up in the rearview mirror. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he watched the car make a sharp turn. He heard the squeal of the tires as the vehicle veered and sped forward through the narrowing space of the closing gates he himself had just passed through.

Vasca felt his foot automatically lift off the gas and his truck slow down. He let the Montana coast as he took another contemplative drag. "Fuck it!" he exhaled at last and punched the pedal shooting his car forward towards Garopaba. _Villinski can deal with his own messes now._ Whoever it was who had just decided to trespass onto his former employer's property, Vasca just hoped they would cause the prick a whole lot of trouble.

* * *

><p>"Eri, what the fuck are you doing?" Santo Justino shouted when the woman had made a break for the gate. "We were going to find Usami's car and wait for the teams to arrive!"<p>

Aikawa leveled her dark gaze at the detective. "We can't afford to wait, Augusto!" She pulled up the extensive drive further. "You have to find Usami-san before anything happens to him… or to Misaki!"

Santo Justino was stunned by the woman's actions, but Aikawa wasn't done yet. His expression shifted from angry to confused when she suddenly stopped the car. "What are you doing, Eri?"

"You have your gun?"

"Yes, but…"

"Get out…"

"Wha…" Santo Justino blanched at the woman's cool order.

"Get out!" Aikawa repeated. She reached overhead and turned off the car's interior lights, then she leaned over him and opened the passenger door. "And go find Usami."

The detective looked back at the now shut gates. It would only be a few minutes most likely before Korovin's team came rushing out to greet their intruders. Santo Justino felt the knot in his stomach immediately tied double. "And what are you going to do while I'm out scouting for Usami?" he demanded

Aikawa, who hadn't pulled back from opening the door moved her head in and kissed Santo Justino deeply. Then she pulled away, releasing his seatbelt as she straightened. "I'm going to create a diversion." In the dimly lit drive Santo Justino could still clearly read how serious Aikawa's expression was. "Now get the hell out, Augusto! You don't have much time."

"This is madness! You don't even have a weapon, Eri!" he challenged.

"You might be surprised, Augusto. I have been known to have a few tricks up my sleeve, publishing can be a brutal business," Aikawa words contained a trace of bitter humor but her expression was earnest.

"You're as crazy as Usami, you know that?" Augusto snorted.

"Maybe," Aikawa said with a sad smile.

Santo Justino put his phone which had been lying open in his lap the whole time to his ear. "Alvarez…"

"Heard it SJ, Silva's got the car on visual and we've just added two more rogues to the list…"

"Breaking contact now." Augusto clicked off his phone. His expression was grave.

Then the detective surprised Aikawa by leaning in quickly and placing another quick kiss on her lips before slipping out the open door. "For luck," he said as he ducked out.

"Christ knows we're both going to need it."

* * *

><p>In the bowels of Korovin's lair, Akihiko was staring at the broken creature in his arms. He gently set Jadir on the floor and stepped back a pace. The poor boy's face was bruised, his lips swollen, but still the pure loveliness of the youth's countenance was clearly visible. This made the terror of Jadir's scarred flesh and pruned limbs all that much more exaggerated.<p>

Akihiko was secretly relieved the boy had passed out so suddenly, as, even as skilled as he was at masking his emotions, he knew there was no way he could have hid his expression of horror at what he was seeing. The thought that he might find his beloved Misaki here in a similar condition flushed his veins with acid.

"Poor lamb," Akihiko breathed knowing even as he said this how lame he sounded. There were simply no other words that came to him.

He knew that to take the boy with him would only jeopardize them both, but despite this, he couldn't bear to leave him.

He bent and picked up the small devices he'd dropped in his rush to catch the teen, he was still holding his gun. He wondered if it was the fear of seeing the weapon that had caused the battered boy to faint. As he looked at Jadir's cast leg and his general condition, that the youth had been upright at all struck him as miraculous.

The author glanced at his gadgets and hoped to the gods they weren't broken. He put these in the pocket of the light black jacket he was wearing and dropped the duffel from his shoulder and grabbed a few things out of it which he also added to his pockets. It would be too cumbersome to manage both the boy and his bag.

Akihiko adjusted his grip on his gun and scooped the youth up in his arms. He hardly weighed anything. Akihiko looked down and saw Jadir's bloated belly. _Malnutrition? Starvation?_ He wondered absently as he headed off down the corridor. He couldn't even begin to fathom what hell the teen had been put through.

His anger continued to boil with each step he took. "Fuck the cameras and the locks!" he snarled. Akihiko now wanted whoever might be watching to know what he'd found and that he was coming for them, with far less mercy than the sick fucks had visited on the devastated boy in his arms.

* * *

><p>Misaki had been fitfully sleeping when like some dark demon Korovin appeared beside him. He turned his head trying to escape the sadist's mad grin and winced when he felt a sharp prick in his arm. Seconds after the jab, Misaki felt his mind speed up along with his heart rate.<p>

Korovin grabbed him cruelly by the chin and turned his face towards him. Misaki felt the short hair on the nape of his neck rise up at the ghoulish flames dancing in the madman's eyes.

"Ah, good Taka-chan, you're awake!" Korovin hissed gleefully. "I thought that little shot would do the trick." Korovin ignored Misaki's pained yelp as he removed the catheter from the boy none too gently. The IV followed.

"I have a surprise for you my pet, and I want you fully present to enjoy it… You're just going to love it, I know!" Korovin chuckled as his surgical fingers skillfully undid Misaki's restraints.

The moment he was loosed Misaki curled himself into a tight ball: he was completely broken. The instant the doctor laid his hand him, Misaki burst into gasping sobs. Undeterred by this Korovin scooped Misaki up. He was so weak from his injuries and his long immobility that Misaki didn't even try to fight back.

But he did manage to at last find his voice. "Please," Misaki whispered into his captor's chest. "Please kill me… I can't bear anymore." He shuddered as he felt the man surrounding him laughed richly at his desperate plea.

"Ah, Takahashi, you have no idea how much you have to live for at the moment, but if death is what you truly want, I am sure that I can arrange that." Korovin shifted the fragile youth in his arms as he opened the door and exited the incubator leaving the rest of his wide-eyed captives behind him.

"Just not quite yet," he whispered into the trembling boy's ear as he headed down the hall to his playroom.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and please review. <strong>


	24. Usagi

**Days without Sun**

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Usagi**

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><p>As Korovin moved down the hall with Misaki, his mind was gleefully racing with all the possibilities a confrontation with the author, Usami, held for him… not to mention what fun he'd have with the man after. Before grabbing Misaki Korovin had overridden the locks for the bunker on his computer to enable his new playmate to find him faster. This way too he slipped through the doors that led to his playroom unhindered.<p>

Misaki had lain all but motionless in Korovin's arms, curled against his captor's chest silently sobbing. However, when he raised his head at last and was confronted with the gaudy interior of the dreaded "playroom" he became hysterical.

"Please, no!" Misaki pleaded, his bruised throat barely able to bear the weight of his words, "I can't… Please…" Korovin's broken toy began weeping uncontrollably. He struggled frantically, but in his weakened condition his thrashing had little impact on his tormentor's grip.

Misaki cried out at the pain in his cast legs and stiff body when Korovin threw him roughly on the stained sheets of the large bed that occupied the man's favorite torture chamber. Misaki felt strong hands grab his thin wrists and before he knew it, they were caught in the steel-chained cuffs Korovin had long ago welded to the headboard of the bed.

"Hush, Takahashi!" Korovin barked.

At the warning tone in the man's voice, Misaki collapsed back into his quiet weeping.

Once he had Misaki secured to his satisfaction, Korovin left the hiccupping boy alone in the room for a few minutes.

The Doc returned a short time later with his arms full of supplies and quickly set to work. Misaki winced as a needle slid into his tender flesh again. He watched with huge pain-filled green eyes as his captor affixed a new IV to him and then began fussing with a number of gadgets, adding attachments to the drip. Once this new medical arrangement had been fixed to his satisfaction Korovin disappeared once more.

He returned quickly with a laptop. The man perched himself comfortably on the edge of the bed and set the computer up before Misaki."I have something new for us to watch, Takahashi," he purred.

Misaki began to shake uncontrollably at these words. Despite the fact he knew he would be punished for resisting, he averted his tear-blurred eyes. Korovin liked to document all of his doings and Misaki had been forced to watch his own violation more than once, most often in the midst of some new debasement.

Korovin laughed when he saw the youth's downcast gaze. He grabbed Misaki cruelly by the chin, hard enough so that his fingers pressed marks into the teen's pale flesh. He turned Misaki's face to the illuminated screen. "Seriously, pet, you're going to want to see this…. I really think you'll find you can't tear your eyes away from it."

He released Misaki and began to tap rapidly on the computer.

Trembling, Misaki continued to stare down at the rumpled sheets, until he heard the man unexpectedly draw a deep breath. "Interesting," Korovin muttered. "I see how it is now, you filthy traitor."

Misaki looked up sharply; for the first time since he'd been taken Korovin's voice sounded surprised, almost unnerved.

After inhaling another deep breath and regaining his composure after his momentary slip, Korovin turned the laptop towards his captive.

Misaki's own breath caught in his throat. He felt new tears spring to his eyes and his heart began thudding in a furious and dangerously erratic beat when he saw the back of a silvered head on the screen before him. Though he couldn't see a face, Misaki would have known the owner of that brilliant head anywhere.

It was Usagi-san!

"Usagi." Carried on Misaki's gasped breath the name was not even a whisper. His racing heart filled with ecstatic hope and overwhelming terror at the sight of Usagi-san in one of Korovin's mazed hallways. He had not realized until this moment how starved his eyes were for the visage of his lover until he saw the man.

Misaki immediately noted how much thinner the author looked than when he had left him. _Stupid, Usagi, not eating enough again. _At the ridiculousness of this thought, in light of his current situation, Misaki choked on a hysterical giggle.

Korovin heard the noise and turned to Misaki. The boy's huge eyes were glued to the screen and he was biting his cracked lower lip in an effort to keep from making any further exclamations.

Drinking in every step, the sensual glide of Usagi-san, even as he moved down the hall, Misaki was mesmerized, though it struck him almost immediately that something was off in the man's stride. It took the stunned youth a moment before he saw the bare, slender legs extending out past one of Usagi-san's lean sides and realized that his author was carrying someone.

_That should be me in his arms,_ Misaki thought bitterly and a wave of despondence crashed over him, followed immediately by one of self-recrimination at his selfish thoughts_. If Usagi-san can save even one of us, I should be happy_…

No sooner had he thought this than suddenly Misaki was swept up in a flood of worry for the safety of his beloved rabbit. Surely there was no way Korovin would ever let Usagi-san, or any of them for that matter, out of this hell hole alive.

Before new tears of grief at this truth had time to fill his eyes, however, the waters of this gripping fear receded and were replaced by an even more powerful surge of emotion as Korovin switched the camera feed following the author's path.

From this new angle Misaki could see the fragile figure riding in his lover's arms just before the two were lost from view as Usagi-san fumbled with a door and he and the boy he was carrying disappeared from sight. Misaki knew that particular door well. It was the same one Korovin had pulled him from not long before: it was the entrance to the sick ward where all Korovin's captives lay.

Glimpsing the face of the youth Akihiko was carrying, Misaki's already overlarge eyes widened further. "Jadir." Misaki exhaled the boy's name like a prayer. A delirious elixir of disbelief and mad joy rose in his heaving chest. He looked up at Korovin awestruck.

"But you…"

Korovin gave Misaki an evil grin and barked out a harsh laugh before offering a smug: "Surprise!"

A shuddering sob at the relief of seeing Jadir alive racked Misaki's emaciated frame, forcing him to drop his eyes again. This loss of visual contact with Usagi was all but unbearable. Misaki was filled with fear that when he looked up again, both Usagi and Jadir would be gone; that their appearance was just some new torture fabricated by the man whose cruelty, he had come to understand, had no end.

As he gasped, trying to regain his breath after the shock, Misaki felt a new emotion rising: seeing Usagi-san bolstered him. It was like a long fever breaking.

His beloved rabbit had really, finally come for him.

Misaki was seized by a sudden frantic courage. "You bastard!" he yelled, despite the fire this ignited in his throat. He kicked out at Korovin with his cast legs disregarding the shocks of pain that coursed through him. Korovin had been anticipating a response from his captive but the violence of Misaki's kick had caught him unawares. Cast legs crashed into him, sending him tumbling to the floor.

The Doc scrambled up and stared at his panting captive.

The emerald fire in Misaki's eyes was quickly extinguished beneath his cold stare.

"You little fuck!" A large hand crashed against Misaki's jaw. Misaki felt his already cracked lips break beneath the force of Korovin's blow.

Despite the sudden stars that filled his eyes and the copper taste that assaulted his tongue, Misaki drew himself up. He sucked in the deepest breath his aching ribs permitted.

"Usagi-san!"

Misaki yelled as loudly as his bruised throat would allow, not caring that his rabbit couldn't possibly hear him. There was freedom in calling out the name he had been hiding in his heart, keeping a secret from his captor these endless dark months. He shouted it again, his hoarse voice cracking with the effort, "Usagi! Usagi!" His fevered cries were cut short as a large hand wrapped around his bruised throat, choking him.

Misaki gasped and struggled but chained as he was to Korovin's headboard he was at the madman's mercy.

"Enough!" Korovin snarled.

_So close,_ Misaki thought desperately as the hand gripping his throat tightened and he saw stars for the second time in a matter of minutes. His heart gave a shudder of want for Usagi-san, then the world became fuzzy and everything went black.

Korovin was well aware he was in the "red zone" when Misaki's eyes fluttered closed and the boy stilled, but he did not immediately release him.

_A few more seconds. It would be so easy…_

He looked at the slender throat already bruised from Misaki's last "escape attempt." With a shuddering growl, he wrenched his hands away at last. He stood there several seconds looking at the quiet form laying before him. Misaki's pale, thin body, his slender limbs and ribby torso laced with the scars of all his industrious inscribing, the dingy casts on the boy's legs, the shorn head.

"Becoming so beautiful," Korovin whispered as he inhaled a self-soothing breath and wondered if he'd already taken it too far. Thin fingers stretched out, but this time they alit on Misaki's neck with a feathery touch. He frowned not feeling a pulse, then he shifted his hand again.

A thin smile twisted his lips, as there, beneath his fingertips he felt it, light and fluttering weakly. "Usagi-san, eh?" Korovin whispered, amazed that Misaki had kept this truth from him for so long. That after all he had extracted from his toy that Misaki had managed to keep this secret.

"Is that who your frail heart still beats for, Takahashi?"

Korovin withdrew his hand. He leaned over and picked up the fallen laptop from the floor. He grabbed a few other items he'd brought in with him when he set up Misaki's IV from where he'd set them on a small table next to the bed and slipped these into a pocket. Then he sat back down on the edge of the bed next to his silent captive and began rapidly tapping away at the keyboard.

A sinister smile stretched Korovin's mouth and he began to hum absently as he set about laying his snare for Takahashi's dear bunny.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and please review!<strong>


	25. Impasse

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Impasse**

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><p>Akihiko had been wending his way down one of the halls of the bunker, well aware of the fact he had no idea where in the bloody hell he was going when he suddenly felt the young man is his arms begin to stir.<p>

Quickly, he moved and set the boy down gently on the floor. He put his gun in its holster and stepped back a pace. Given the boy's condition he had no idea how the youth would react waking up and finding himself in the arms of a stranger and he did not want to risk either of them getting injured if the boy were to become violent. Though the teen hardly looked to be in any condition to put up much of a fight.

Cool eyes appraised the rousing youth before him and once again Akihiko was appalled by the atrocities that had been enacted upon the fragile figure. Seeing Jadir's stump and his other missing digits immediately brought to mind the locket he'd left behind containing the ash of Misaki's finger. He could taste the acidic flavor of dread on his tongue as he wondered how many other tortures had been visited on his own dear Misaki.

Thick lashes fluttered and Jadir's eyes slowly blinked open. The boy felt faint as he struggled to regain his bearings. His head swam as he tried to figure out what had just happened. He remembered he had been going to get a mop and that he needed to get to the incubator. His dark gaze lifted and he started when he looked up from the floor and realized that not only was he in a different part of the warren, but that there was an unknown man crouched before him.

Then Jadir remembered his prayer and his heart lurched at the hope that he'd been heard, that this was his longed for deliverer. However, he had been too long in Korovin's keeping for that feeling to linger. The thought was replaced quickly as his mind filled with the crushing fear that this was more likely one of his captor's men: men he'd rarely seen but had often been threatened with. He whimpered and began an awkward scuttle backwards on his damaged limbs until his back met the cool plaster of the hallway's wall.

Akihiko watched the boy's reaction with a sense of horrified heartbreak though he kept his face impassive. Of course he would be terrified; any other response would have been absurd under these conditions. Akihiko lowered himself in his crouched position a bit more but made no other attempt to move. His mind searched frantically for what he could do to show the poor creature he meant him no harm.

When Akihiko made no motion to come after him, Jadir stopped his retreat. His dark, fear-filled eyes studied the man warily and he made an unconscious move to cover his swelling stomach with his remaining hand. Looking hesitantly at the handsome face before him though, Jadir saw nothing in its expression except deep concern. A breath hitched in his throat at this, and a soft sob escaped him.

"Easy there… I'm not going to hurt you," a velvet voice ventured in English, then Portuguese. Jadir's small frame tensed sharply at the words. The soft tone and the possibility it contained was too much. He drew his knees up tightly and hid his face behind his stumped arm as keening sobs suddenly wracked his thin body.

At this response Akihiko's face became even more grave. His eyes darted up and down the hall, worried that the sound of the boy's crying would draw unwanted attention. He couldn't leave this broken child, but he knew that just sitting there was a growing invitation for trouble.

Slowly Akihiko eased himself out of his jacket. He moved forward cautiously until he was close to the boy. He carefully draped this light cover over bare shoulders and watched Jadir shiver as the soft fabric kissed his bare skin.

Jadir looked up through his tears and his thumb and two remaining thin fingers rose and softly stroked the collar. He shifted his gaze to the pale-eyed angel before him.

The gratitude in the boy's eyes for this simple act overwhelmed Akihiko.

"Usami," he said softly, pointing to himself. "Usami Akihiko." His voice was so husked with emotion he almost didn't recognize himself. Akihiko watched with dismay as the boy wiped his eyes with the stump of his arm. It was obvious from the pinkness of the scarring that the amputation had been relatively recent.

"Ja..Jadir… Ca… Cavaco," the boy whispered, his long unused voice breaking.

"Ah, Jadir…" Akihiko floundered. What did one say exactly in a moment like this? All the usual pleasantries sounded insane under the circumstances. Instead then, Akihiko opted for action though he tried to keep his tone gentle. Understanding by the name and the accent the boy's nationality, he spoke softly in Portuguese. "Jadir, we need to move. It's not safe here. We have to go."

Jadir nodded brokenly at these words and another small hiccupping sob escaped. He made no move to struggle as Akihiko moved in to gather him up once more. Akihiko marveled that Jadir wasn't hysterical after what he'd been subjected to.

Once he was in Akihiko's arms again, a shudder coursed through the youth. Jadir buried his head into the author's strong shoulder. "More…" Jadir choked.

Akihiko was puzzled. "What? More what, Jadir?"

"More… b…boys."

Akihiko's heart skipped a beat before lurching into a pounding gallop. Jadir's muffled whisper was not merely a statement; his tone carried a harried plea.

"You mean there are more boys here, Jadir?…" Against his chest he felt the barest of nods. Hope soared within his chest and Akihiko suddenly felt as though he couldn't breathe. He knew he had no choice. Regardless now, he had to try and help Villinski's other prisoners but he couldn't keep from uttering the name he'd so often called these past harrowing months. The word that had lived on his lips:

"Misaki."

The first time he said it, it was barely a breath, but he repeated it, his voice strong but cool, not wanting to frighten the fragile boy in his arms. "Misaki."

Dark brown eyes looked up when he spoke this name, but Akihiko saw no recognition in Jadir's puzzled expression. Desperate, he uttered his beloved's name one more time. "Jadir, do you know a boy named Misaki?... Takahashi Misaki."

While the youth's tear-streaked face had remained blank at "Misaki," the moment Akihiko said "Takahashi" Jadir's eyes had perceptibly widened.

"Takahashi?" Jadir whispered and a blush filled his cheeks just as an unarticulated new sorrow filled his eyes.

Seeing this, Akihiko's thundering heart crashed against the cage of his ribs like a wild animal frantic for freedom. "Jadir, please tell me… tell me Takahashi is alive."

The moment after Jadir nodded, the boy gasped as the author suddenly clutched him to his chest stealing his breath. He recovered from this shock only to be further surprised to feel a lightly stubbled cheek pressed against his smooth one.

"Thank you. Oh dear god, thank you," Akihiko gasped, his eyes welling with joyful tears. He pulled back his head and regarded Jadir with a look of hopeless gratitude. "Please, Jadir, I will do whatever I can to help you but please, do you know where he is? Can you take me to him?"

Jadir nodded slowly and pointed to a door up head, he'd barely raised his hand to indicate it before Akihiko began moving.

Stopping at the door, Akihiko looked down at Jadir. His arms full, he nodded at the keypad. "I don't suppose you know the code for that thing?" Even if the boy had, Akihiko still possessed his gadgets but they would lose even more invaluable time.

He breathed an audible sigh of relief when Jadir's dark head bobbed in affirmation. The boy didn't know all Korovin's codes, but he did for the ones to the areas he was allowed access. He leaned out of Akihiko's embrace to tap in the numbers, but as he did this, he noticed that the light indicator signifying the door was armed and locked was off. Jadir frowned at this. He reached out with palsied fingers and twisted the knob.

The door was open.

Akihiko felt the youth begin to tremble in his arms. He had noticed the keypad light indicator too at the last minute. The author glared up into one of the hallway's security cameras. He wondered what this meant. If someone knew he was there now. Not desiring to spend too much thought on the implications of this, Akihiko pushed through the door, praying that each step was bringing him closer to Misaki.

Finally Jadir lead Akihiko to the incubation room. Here again the door was unlocked. Jadir shifted in the author's arms and after a moment, Akihiko set the boy down. He had a sudden flash of worry that maybe the youth had pulled him into a trap. There was a great possibility that Jadir would have a considerable case of Stockholm syndrome after what he'd been through.

Akihiko set this troubling thought aside, at this point it didn't matter. He placed his hand on the butt of the gun in his holster, just in case, however. He braced himself as he followed the teen into the room.

Inside Akihiko quickly ascertained it wasn't a trap. It was far worse.

He choked when he saw in the dim light all the hospital beds filled with Villinski's handiwork.

A low murmur filled the room as almost a dozen pairs of eyes focused on the stranger who'd just entered. Low moans and keening cries filled the air as the mad doctor's captives each clamored for salvation. Pleas for help in a variety of languages filled his ears, called out by the boys who were unmuzzled.

Akihiko was stunned by the sight and the sound. His other senses were overwhelmed as well since Korovin had not been keeping on top of his patients' care and the smell of soiled beds, unwashed bodies and the fetid dank of despair assailed his nostrils.

None of this seemed to faze Jadir, however. The youth grabbed Akihiko's large hand with his small damaged one and began to pull the man towards the back of the room where some of the beds were curtained off. Jadir drew Akihiko to the bed he'd last seen Misaki in, looking in on the room from the monitor in Korovin's office. Akihiko rushed forward and whipped back the curtain.

The bed was empty.

"NO!"

Akihiko's grief and rage-laden cry filled the room and all other noise ceased. The bed-bound boys immediately fell silent. His fury rose as he saw the empty shackles, the depression where his boy's body had occupied the bed so recently. Lavender eyes stared in disbelief. He scanned the bed as though he could will Misaki into materializing. Then he turned and saw Jadir's grief stricken expression.

"NO!" Akihiko bellowed again. He ran a hand through his thick, pale hair and then lunged at the few other remaining curtained beds. Misaki had to be there! He couldn't come so close only to have his beloved disappear again.

He growled in frustration, until he realized the effect his anger was having on the room's other occupants. Then a crushing wave of grief and conviction crashed down on him seeing the terrified eyes fixed on him.

"Sorry… I am so sorry," Akihiko said much more softly, repeating this in every language he knew. He moved back over to Jadir. "Jadir, do you have any idea where Misaki might be?" Before the shaken youth could answer, a light flashed in one corner of the room and a darkened wall monitor flickered to life.

All eyes in the dim room were suddenly fixed on the screen. Akihiko stepped over to it and was greeted by the Doc's grinning face. "Villinski," he breathed, his fists clenched dangerously, seeing the man who had spoken to him at the bar, the same fucking bastard who had taken his Misaki.

A torrent of rage flowed through him, not only at the man but at himself. Akihiko's heart was ravaged by an overwhelming guilt: that this… fuck who'd stolen the love of his life and irreparably damaged Misaki, had sat down beside him so casually so many weeks ago and he hadn't somehow sensed it.

"Ah, Usami… What a pleasure to see you again. And actually, the name's Korovin, but you can call me 'Doc' if you like," the sadist purred, in his accented English. "How remarkable this is. How on earth did you ever find me?" Korovin's tone was so casual one might think Akihiko had simply shown up unexpected for tea.

"I don't give a damn who you are, you sick demon fuck!" Akihiko had lost any inclination for civility the instant Korovin had taken Misaki.

"So passionate! I can see why Takahashi's so fond of you…Usagi-san." Korovin teased. Then seeing with the feed from the security cameras on the room how furious the man was he chuckled.

_Uncontained rage_. This was going to be much easier than he'd thought, sadly, but still entertaining nonetheless. Korovin watched as Akihiko stilled at his words rather than rise to the bait though the way the author's lean sides were heaving it was obvious that he was struggling to control himself. This shift made Korovin suddenly more optimistic about his challenger.

Akihiko's world was painted crimson hearing Korovin utter his beloved's name and his own cherished nickname. Falling from such corrupt lips this was blasphemy. "Misaki! Where is he?" He demanded. Akihiko felt nothing but loathing at Korovin's low chuckle. His heart stopped and he couldn't breathe, however, when a moment later Korovin turned the laptop he was communicating from and the webcam picked up a pale visage.

All the blood left Akihiko's face. Lavender eyes blinked rapidly as his mind struggled to comprehend that the unconscious form he was seeing was his Misaki. Misaki, his thick chocolate locks, shorn; his pale face angular with emaciation, blooming with bruise rather than blush, his soft lips broken; thin arms stretched and chained over his head. He noticed the dark marks that profaned his love's slender neck.

Misaki's eyes were closed and he was so still. Akihiko could see the wetness on his boy's sunken cheeks, the tracks of his newest tears.

"You…" There was no label, no word that existed in language to capture such and abomination as Korovin.

"What have you done to my Misaki?"

Akihiko looked up at Korovin through the screen. The coldness in his gaze froze the tears that had welled in his eyes before they could fall.

"Oh… he's not dead… yet… but I can see from the look on your face you don't like my alterations." Korovin laughed. "Pity."

"Maybe you'd like a different boy then. Jadir seems to have taken to you… Am I wrong there, my pet?"

Jadir had followed Akihiko over to the monitor. He'd begun trembling the moment Korovin's face had appeared on the screen. At these words though, Jadir uttered a small whimper and sank to the floor.

Korovin, if he saw this, ignored Jadir, instead he leaned back into the monitor and held up a tiny box, a small remote of sorts. "Do you see this?

"This remote is linked to that IV system over there."

Once again the screen shifted and Akihiko saw the tube going into the back of one of Misaki's cuffed hands. Hanging from a pole that was part of the headboard the IV drip bag also sprouted a proliferation of other gadgets.

"When I press this remote, a little treat I prepared myself will be released into the IV's feed. It will kill Takahashi… quickly, fortunately for him, as I can't guarantee it will be painless."

Korovin laughed again at the hopeless fury on Usami's face.

"No," Akihiko's voice was soft and the unmistakable plea in it pleased Korovin immensely.

"Tell you what Usami, I'd really rather not kill your little lover yet… I'd rather keep him a bit longer. So, let's make a bargain… You let me keep Takahashi and I'll let you walk out of here with those others… every boy in that room. I call my guards and tell them to allow you to exit my grounds unmolested. Those are my terms.

Akihiko felt every eye was suddenly on him. Not even a breath could be heard as Korovin's captives lay silent, waiting for his answer. Despite the sudden palpable hope in the room Akihiko knew the man was offering him a false bargain: that Korovin would never willingly let him or any of his captives ever leave this place. The man was clearly toying with him.

"No."

On the screen Korovin displayed a cocked brow. "No? You come to an answer so quickly?

"You throw these other boys' lives out without a second thought? I thought you were Japanese, Usami and as such you would know the collective outweighs the individual?"

"If you'd just cease talking long enough for me to get out my full answer!" Akihiko growled.

Korovin's brow rose higher at this and he smirked. He stared at Akihiko expectantly. "Well, I'm waiting."

"My answer is no… You'll not have my Misaki or any boy by the time I am through with you."

"Ummmmm?" Korovin hummed, "Greedy… And so sure of yourself. Let's see how long that lasts… What's to keep me from pressing this button right now?"

Akihiko drew a deep breath, he hated himself for what he was about to do. He switched from English to Japanese, testing Korovin and hoping to keep his words from the boys surrounding him. "I have a gun. You press that button and I will kill every boy in this room. As you said 'the collective outweighs the individual.' From what I have seen it would be a kinder fate than remaining here with you… And by the way, I spent my childhood in England, so my sensibilities are not purely Japanese." Akihiko's voice was low but there was no doubt of the conviction with which the man uttered these words. "I learned quite a bit about the selfishness of the imperialistic mindset while I was there. What some will do to others without thought to claim what they want… What they believe to be inherently theirs."

"You wouldn't." Korovin's voice was sure, but his eyes flickered for the merest of moments. His mind raced with what this would mean… the loss of all his hard work… his experiment.

"Try me. Without Misaki I have nothing left to lose." Akihiko pulled the gun from its holster. "And I'll start here." He aimed it at the kneeling figure of Jadir beside him.

Jadir's eyes grew huge. He wailed and pulled his broken limbs in, curling up in a pitiful attempt to shield himself.

While his facial expression held firm, at this action by Akihiko, Korovin visibly paled. Then two spots of bright color flashed in his drawn cheeks. "Do it, I don't care," he hissed.

"Don't you?" Akihiko stepped forward, willing his hand not to tremble as he leaned over and placed the barrel of the gun against the sobbing Jadir's temple.

"M… Master, save us!" Jadir gasped out pitifully.

Akihiko cocked the hammer. "Forgive me, Jadir. I truly wanted to free you, but not in this way," he said softly in Portuguese.

"STOP!" Korovin suddenly shrieked.

Akihiko hesitated a moment before he looked up, his eyes were glazed. "Ummmm?" he murmured looking up into the screen.

Korovin's face was tight but the man was visibly shaking. "It seems we may have reached an impasse." The Doc's fury was palpable.

Akihiko straightened. He withdrew the gun from Jadir's temple, but kept it trained on the weeping boy before him. "Then tell me," Akihiko said as a bitter twist curled his mouth, "How do you propose we solve this?"

* * *

><p><strong>Alcuzey, hope this is alleviating the boredom of your travels.<strong>

**SilentStare, congrats on your new FF account. Stalker mode... (I like to see who my reviewers are). Yeah, I think I may have a sliver of Korovin in me, the way I like torturing my readers.**

**Ashley Tangerine, thank you, doll, for being my 400th reviewer for this story. You have no idea how happy you have made this hound. I know things moved fast, but I just couldn't bear to keep torturing the Romanticas or Jadir, for that matter.**

**Thanks everyone for reading and please review!**

**Sincerely,**

**Cerberus**


	26. Minutes

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Minutes**

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><p>Jadir had been shocked when Usami Akihiko had drawn his gun on him: the man who, in the few minutes he had been with him, had shown him more true kindness than he had known in the two years of his captivity. Jadir had been unable to understand what Usami had said before he committed himself to this action, but his captor, Korovin, had responded in Portuguese.<p>

"Do it. I don't care."

It was these words by Korovin, not the gun, that set him sobbing. Jadir wept without tears knowing it was true: Korovin had assured him countless times he was nothing.

He was also weeping for Takahashi Misaki. He wished he could shed true tears for his fellow captive; maybe they could wash away some of his terrible guilt.

Takahashi had been forced to endure far more than he would have if he'd not asked him to join in his attempted escape. Korovin had told him this often since their capture.

He'd forced Jadir to look upon Takahashi, broken and unconscious. Seeing him again on the screen now in his further reduced condition, Jadir was overwhelmed with crushing remorse.

_My foolish action caused this suffering_.

And the man standing next to him, pointing the gun, loved Takahashi; this much was clear.

It had been from the first time Jadir had heard Usami utter Takahashi's other name: "Misaki." Even if Usami didn't know of his fault, Jadir felt the man's action was justified.

As the hopelessness of his situation bloomed within him once more, Jadir thought miserably, in addition to justice, at least it would put an end to his own pain and the world of hurt the other life he carried would be born into.

"Don't you?"

Jadir heard and understood this as well, though Usami had spoken it in English.

Something in the tone of the words struck him. He raised his head as Usami stepped forward. His fear-blurred eyes met Usami's and he was stunned again. The gaze he encountered was not filled with anger or coldness, instead Usami's eyes held an expression of overwhelming grief.

Jadir had always been a perceptive boy. Sensitive… too much so, he'd been told more than once in his life. The past two years had honed this in him to a razor's blade. He had learned to read every tic, tense, and breath of Korovin in order to please him. As he looked at Usami now, he understood immediately that the man before him was in terrible pain and did not want to kill him.

The terror in his eyes softened; he saw Usami's widen in response to this. He watched Usami lean forward with the gun. Jadir remembered that God had answered his prayer and one way or another he believed that Usami was to be his deliverer.

Jadir caught the waver of the barrel and moved his head just slightly to press against the edge of the steel to steady it. His gaze never left Usami's. He only hoped that Korovin had not noticed his subtle gesture.

Usami felt it though, and the hardened mask he had been trying to maintain slipped. Jadir knew if his captor saw this the deadly game would be over and he, Usami, Takahashi, and the rest of the boys would lose.

"Master! Save us!" He wanted to remind Korovin of the swelling secret he carried. He hoped his plea would pull the devil's eyes to him, though his own never left Usami's. Jadir prayed that the title would catch on his tormentor's pride, would remind him that someone else was playing with his "toy" now. Unable to bear the infinite grief in Usami's expression Jadir closed his eyes and committed his heart one last time to his God.

"Forgive me, Jadir. I truly wanted to free you but not in this way."

A fresh wave of sobs shook Jadir's slender shoulders hearing the solemn earnestness in Usami's voice, though still no tears came.

He was moved by the truth of it. Korovin had teased him with apologies while tormenting him countless times, but never once had he meant it.

Jadir heard the click of the hammer, the low whimpers, sobs, and gasps of the other captives, the soft buzz of the monitor.

_What was it Korovin said? That the collective was more important than the individual?_

Jadir found himself amazed by the clarity of his thoughts in this instance. He suddenly hoped that Usami would have the strength to do it. A peculiar peace filled him.

"STOP!"

A moment after Korovin shrilled his command, Jadir's eyes slowly fluttered open. When they finally focused he found himself gazing into an equally dazed pair of lavender orbs. At last, Usami looked away and back up at the screen.

"It seems we may have reached an impasse."

Jadir heard the fury in Korovin's voice. For some reason, however, it sounded as though the man was speaking from far away. Even so, to hear his captor so discomfited pleased him.

He felt the muggy air of the incubator lick the damp flesh of his temple the moment the cool of the gun's barrel left him. At this instant the rest of his strength abandoned him also and he collapsed completely. Lying on the chill polished concrete of the sick room, Jadir listen halfheartedly to the men's negotiations, their voices droning, his understanding of their utterances fading in and out as he drifted.

* * *

><p>"Then tell me, how do you propose we solve this?" Akihiko was amazed by how calm his voice sounded. He kept his eyes focused on Korovin, though it was all he could do not to look at the astounding youth who lay panting on the floor before him.<p>

Korovin paused as if to consider. "You bring Jadir to me and leave my other to…boys unmolested and I'll give you Takahashi and a twenty minute head start to get out of here. No interference."

Now it was Akihiko's turn to ponder. If he could just get close enough to the man to kill him, then there was still a chance that not only could he save Misaki but the others as well. He couldn't help now but glance at the crumpled figure of Jadir.

Akihiko steeled his bleeding heart and turned back to Korovin, his visage hardened. "I want to walk out of here with Misaki, unhindered."

Korovin looked thoughtful. What did it truly matter if he conceded at this point? Usami, Takahashi, Jadir they were all dead ultimately.

"Fine. You take Jadir and have him show you to the 'Playroom.' Takahashi and I will be waiting. You have five minutes to get here once you leave that room and I am going to be watching you so you better not try anything." His voice was icy.

"Agreed." Akihiko holstered the gun and made a move for Jadir. The boy had roused enough that seeing him move towards him, he tried to scoot away, a low wail building in his throat.

This was cut short when Korovin barked, "Jadir! Silence! You will let Usami take you and you will bring him to the Playroom understand!"

Jadir shrank inside the jacket he was still wearing at the command.

"Jadir!"

Akihiko watched as the boy, trembling rose from his knees. He reached out to assist the teen and though Jadir tensed and shied from him, he finally allowed Akihiko to place a steadying hand as he rose. The author watched Jadir struggle to stand. It was a wonder after his near death experience that the youth could even move at all.

Akihiko's heart was sick with what he'd just done. Santo Justino had been right: he was an author not a superhero.

Killing the guard outside, the dogs, those had been terrible, but this latest action was unforgivable, threatening a poor lamb that looked like he'd already been run through the slaughter. Still, Akihiko knew that this was the only chance he would have to get close. Any other negotiation would have made him look weak and then they all would have been lost. He was only thankful that Korovin had bought it.

As they started moving towards the doors, Akihiko's heart ached, glancing around at the beds. To leave these other tortured victims of Korovin's here, bound as they were, tore at him. He was roused from this thought as Jadir stumbled and fell, knocking over a tray of medical supplies at the foot of one of the beds as they passed.

The boy automatically began to frantically scrabble with his remaining digits to gather the spill.

"Enough!" Korovin roared. "I swear to god, Jadir! I should have let him put a bullet in that worthless head of yours! Leave it and come here now!"

Akihiko bent down to lift the boy up; after some fumbling he was able to raise Jadir to his feet.

"If you want me to get there in five minutes I'd better carry him. I can't drag him the whole way." Then Akihiko amended this with an annoyed sounding growl. "Well, I could, but it would be a hell of a bloody hassle." He scooped the trembling boy up again, despite Jadir's feeble protests.

"Just get down here now!" Korovin was livid at Jadir's incompetence. Sitting on the edge of the bed next to the still unconscious Takahashi, Korovin felt his dick hardening at the thought of just exactly how punished the clumsy boy would find himself after he finished with him.

"So impatient," Akihiko snorted trying to provoke Korovin further, wanting him off balance but not out of control, knowing that as long as Korovin held the remote he was walking a dangerous tightrope.

* * *

><p>Out in the hall Akihiko carried Jadir a short distance, heading the direction the teenindicated. As he did, he slipped a hand stealthily into the pocket of the jacket Jadir was still wrapped in (it was a skill he'd had plenty of chances to perfect with Misaki). He found the device for disrupting the camera feeds and pressed it. He knew now he had a few minutes where Korovin would be unable to see him until the picture resumed.<p>

Jadir started in surprise when he felt himself gently set down.

"I have cut the cameras here. They'll be out for three minutes." Akihiko murmured as he stepped back.

Jadir wondered how Usami could produce that kind of magic but the man's voice held no doubt about his assertion. His shock increased, however, when Usami knelt down before him and pressed his silvered forehead to the concrete.

"Jadir," Akihiko offered solemnly in Portuguese, "there are no words I can offer you to atone for what I just did to you. You of all people deserve far better treatment. I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but I can offer you my most humble apology. It was never my intention to cause you more harm than you have already suffered."

Jadir's eyes widened at Usami's words, so weighted with contrition. He stared at the prostrate man before him. After a moment he folded his wobbly knees and squatted before Usami. Tentatively he stretched out his shaking hand.

Jadir's two remaining fingers caressed Usami's cheek and he marveled at its wetness. His tattered digits slipped down and caught the man's strong jaw and lifted it.

When Usami reluctantly raised his head, Jadir found himself drowning in lavender pools of sorrow.

Tears suddenly rolled down Jadir's own cheeks and he wondered where this new moisture had sprung from. He thought he'd spent his last teardrop with his last prayer. Then he wondered if it was only his tears of despair that he had finally exhausted, for the origin of these was far different.

Jadir softly cleared his throat. "Usami, we only have four minutes now," he whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>So this is the end of my re-upload. Everything after this chapter will be new. I hope to give you a new chapter<strong>** this weekend. This story is hot on my ass now and I can't shake it.**

**Hope to hear from you.**

**Sincerely,**

**Cerberus**


	27. Decisions

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Decisions  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Korovin watched as Usami left the incubator, Jadir in tow. His steely eyes intently watched Usami's every movement for clues as the author headed off down the hall. It had been years since he'd experienced such excitement: it was thrilling.<p>

Then all of a sudden his monitor went blank.

"What the fuck is this?" Korovin bellowed. He rapidly typed at the keys, changing over to a roaming feed, starting with of all the cameras in the area where Usami had stood when he suddenly disappeared, but there was no visual. The cameras around the site showed nothing, the man had just turned a corner and was hidden from view. And none of the cameras in the most direct proximity were showing anything but static.

"God damn it, Usami!" The Doc's furious spittle flecked the screen of his laptop. "Who the fuck do you think you're messing with? You arrogant prick!"

Tossing the laptop next to the foot of Misaki's limp form, Korovin stood. He looked down on the unconscious boy and his hand immediately found the remote. His fingers shook as he fought to restrain himself from depressing the button right there.

_ It would serve you right, Usami, you __stupid cunt, for pulling such a stunt._

While he didn't know how he had managed it, Korovin had no doubt that Usami had somehow disrupted the video feed. It took every ounce of control he had not to kill Takahashi.

_No, don't be a fool! _Korovin chided himself as he sought to regain his composure. _You want Usami to watch you kill his dear little rabbit hole. Don't You?_

At this moment there was nothing more he wanted in all the world.

Korovin jumped up off of the bed and headed to the door. He knew he had precious few minutes to get to Usami and his own little traitorous fuck toy, Jadir.

When he found them he was going to make them both pay dearly.

* * *

><p>Akihiko was stunned by Jadir's words.<p>

Where this boy was getting his courage from, he had no idea, but he had never met anyone like this scarred angel. "You're right, Jadir. We need to get moving."

Akihiko looked down, away from the haunted eyes that were locked on him so intensely.

"But I'm afraid I don't have a plan. I never really expected to make it this far." This was the most difficult confession he had ever made in his life, but given all he had put the youth through, Akihiko felt he owed Jadir complete honesty.

"I think you should tell me how to get to the playroom. I could leave you here to free the other boys. Since all the doors seem to be unlocked at the moment, maybe you could all get out. Or lock yourselves in.

"There are others who should be coming to help too."

Thinking about the endless hours before Santo Justino and his troops would arrive, Akihiko realized that between Korovin, the guards and the dogs, and the terrible physical conditions he'd noted of the youths in the beds, that either of these options was likely to be an exercise in futility. Still, at this point, they seemed to offer the only sliver of hope in this whole fucked up scenario.

Jadir seemed to know this as well. He shook his head; his voice was quiet. "Korovin will kill Takahashi without hesitation if you show up alone. I have to go with you."

Akihiko shook his head too and started to protest when Jadir held up his damaged hand. The author fell silent as he watched the youth reach this into the pocket of the jacket he wore. It was the one that had not held the camera disrupter, so Akihiko had not ventured his hand into it.

Jadir pulled from this pocket a scalpel and a roll of medical tape. He had grabbed these and secreted them away while pretending to pick up the scattered items from the tray he'd upset.

Akihiko's eyes widened. He felt even more humbled before Jadir now, knowing after what he'd just threatened to do to the youth, that if the boy had wanted to, Jadir could have easily slit his throat as he carried him.

"I have a plan." Jadir's tone was solemn. In a few clipped sentences, he spelled it out.

"Too risky." Akihiko was stunned by the suggestion.

"We have no choice."

Akihiko regarded Jadir with something akin to awe. He saw not only did Jadir believe this, but that despite his obvious trembling, he was fully committed. A sudden idea popped into the author's creative mind.

"Okay, Jadir, we'll do it but with one slight alteration."

Jadir nodded without even questioning what that might be. He handed Usami the scalpel and the tape before slipping out of the jacket. Standing before Akihiko naked, Jadir lifted the stump of his arm so that the scalpel could be taped to the scarred flesh of its underside.

* * *

><p>Above ground, Santo Justino had just made it to the door of the bunker. He'd so far evaded both dogs and guards, but his heart was pounding madly in his chest, nonetheless. He stood in the shadows, scoping the scene out. His sharp eyes saw the camera and the tampered-with key pad.<p>

He wondered how Usami had managed to do all this without setting off a hundred alarms: this part of the estate should be buzzing with guards by now.

Then his thoughts jumped to the small bit of information Alvarez had communicated to him about Korovin.

_Maybe someone didn't want a big ruckus caused by Usami's intrusion. Maybe someone purposely made it easy for the man to get in._

Santo Justino considered the unmapped mazeways that lay beneath this seemingly benign building. Korovin was the kind of man who obviously loved tormenting his prey. He could keep Usami chasing his own tail in a place like that for hours.

_Damn it!_

Santo Justino cursed Usami and the man's impetuous nature again. Then his mind was suddenly drawn to Aikawa Eri. He wondered if all Japanese were so pig-headed.

Eri should have well reached the drive at the front of the mansion by now. Santo Justino breathed a prayer to The Virgin under his breath for her. Then he took his own action. Despite his desire to go back for Aikawa, he bolted forward and reaching the door set his hand on the knob.

Most of his break-in gear was at his office but he still had his means.

If the door was locked, then there was no way, alarms or not, that he'd be able to get in without drawing attention to himself. But maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. He knew his presence would cause a distraction out here on the grounds, and while it might put Eri in more danger, it might also cause a distraction that would draw Korovin's men away from her.

_I hope to fuck my guys and that international squad get here pronto._

even if the Calvary did show, Santo Justino knew there was little chance of any of them getting out of this clusterfuck unscathed at this point.

_Fuck it! Standing around here isn't doing jack shit to help anyone!_

Drawing a deep breath, he went for the knob. Rather than relief, he felt an ominous sensation of dread fill his low belly when the knob turned easily and no sound filled the dark night around him but the hum of insects, undisturbed in their nightly symphony by the quiet swish of the door as it swung open.

Santo Justino stepped in onto the tiled landing and looked down the narrow staircase before him. He took a few deep focusing breaths and tried to put all thoughts, except finding and immobilizing Korovin out of his mind. The detective quickly crossed himself, re-adjusted his grip on his gun, and carefully began his descent.

* * *

><p>Aikawa felt her stomach clench as the car headed up the drive. She'd started it up and turned the headlights on as soon as she'd seen Augusto disappear amongst the trees lining the cobbled road that led to the mansion.<p>

Her heart was thundering in her chest and her bladder felt uncomfortably full as she drew the vehicle into the well-lit circular drive that marked the entrance to Korovin's palatial dwelling. These sensations only increased when she saw that her approach had obviously been observed and there were now three armed men standing, waiting, hands on their automatic weapons at the head of the driveway.

"Usami-sensei, if we make it out of this alive, I swear to my ancestors, I am going to kill you!" Aikawa hissed under her breath.

She drew herself up in her seat, squaring her shoulders. She'd decided what she was going to do the moment she'd seen the gate opened wide enough to pull the car through. Aikawa reached over, more out of habit than conscious thought, and grabbed her purse off the floor, settling the strap over her shoulder as soon as she'd released her seatbelt.

The editor pulled right up to the guards, trembling the whole way, knowing that they could choose to open fire at any time.

The men were tense, but the moment they'd seen the driver was female, though the barrels of their rifles hadn't lowered, they made no move to fire. Instead, they just watched Aikawa's approach with a hawk's intensity.

Aikawa thanked the gods today that she'd been born female: being independently minded and ambitious in the rigid society she lived in had more often in her life had caused her to curse them. Aikawa drew a deep breath. She hadn't gotten to where she was in life without having learned to use wiles she sometimes found demeaning… this was one of those times.

She opened the door and emerged slowly, stepping away from the car and out in plain sight of the guards. Her expression was one of wide-eyed innocence and confusion. She stepped towards the men as though seeing machine guns was something she encountered every day.

When one of the men barked out "Halt!" to her and raised his weapon higher, Aikawa lifted her hands up in a practiced gesture of shock, designed to draw eyes to her breasts. She made sure to heave them a bit, though her heart was pounding so hard and her breath so compressed, she hardly needed to exaggerate her hitching chest.

"Please," Aikawa gasped out in Japanese in her best helpless female anime voice. "I must see Villinski-sensei. I have a plastic surgery emergency! Can't you see it?"

The men's expressions shifted from stern to confused at Aikawa's bird-like cadence.

Sensing their hesitation, she took a stumbling step forward, revealing more than a little of her slender supple leg as her skirt lifted in process. She began in her most damsely way, switching off from Japanese: "So sorry… do you speak English? I don't know Portuguese…" Aikawa had no difficulty keeping her voice breathy as she lilted her words at the men.

"How did you get in here! This is a private estate! No trespassers!" The stickler of the group shouted at her in English, waving his weapon menacingly.

Aikawa's gaydar, honed after years of working at Marukawa, blipped. She suddenly feared her strategy was going to fail. She pulled out her last trick.

Her eyes filled with tears and she began to wail pitifully. Though it injured her pride to resort to such a low tactic, she was not un-used to acting emotional. After all, she'd pretended to be a raging basket case for years as a means of managing Usami-sensei.

"But the gate was open when I drove in... I have his card, too! Maria Medieta sent me! Don't you understand? I am having a plastic surgery emergency! I have a party in a few weeks and I can't go with these eyes!"

If it was not her antics, it was the name of the Garopaba's police chief's notorious wife that finally caused the three men to all lower their guns. A furious conversation broke out amongst the trio in Portuguese. Aikawa was hard pressed not to smile at her success. At least until one of the men nodded to his comrades, slipped the strap on his assault rife, slinging it over his shoulder, and stepped up to her, seizing her roughly by the arm.

"The Doctor is busy, but I'll take you inside to wait," the guard said stiffly, his English far more heavily accented than his comrade's. He ignored Aikawa's yelp when his grip became painful as he maneuvered her towards the Mansion's large double doors.

Glancing over her shoulder she saw the other two men cautiously approaching the car. Aikawa hoped that Augusto had not left anything suspicious in it. This, however, was about to become the least of her worries.

Just before they reached the mansion's main entrance, the man escorting her turned sharply, dragging Aikawa with him.

Her already accelerated heart began racing as she soon realized he was pulling her down to a shadowy walk around to the side of the building.

"Where are you taking me?" she gasped out, pulling back. Up ahead she saw a dark shed off the graveled walkway, almost hidden in a cluster of trees.

The guard's voice was cold. "We have a separate entrance for unexpected guests." The man shifted his gaze from the path to Aikawa. He tightened his grip on her arm further and offered her a disturbing leer.

"But before we go in, to make sure you pose no threat to my employer, Dr. Villinski, I'm going to need to conduct a thorough 'search' of you."

* * *

><p>Misaki came to as a harsh cough wracked his chest.<p>

His head ached so much he could hardly get his eyes to open and his throat was on fire. After the coughing fit passed, he lay there gasping, He tried to draw his stiff arms down to his throat, but was bolted to full consciousness when the IV needle in the back of his hand brushed the edge of the cuff shackling his arms overhead.

An electric pain shot all the way down his arm to the elbow.

Misaki's eyes popped open and his situation was revealed to him. With it returned the moments just before Korovin had choked him.

_Usagi-san!_

His second thought was of Korovin and wild eyes scanned the room, still fierce but not quite as frantic when he realized it seemed empty. The Doc had apparently left him alone.

Despite being further weakened by his most recent abuse, Misaki rattled his arms in the cuffs.

Korovin had never chained him before. He rarely chained any of his toys; he by far preferred to force his captives to submit without physical restraints. He loved to talk about it as his prizes giving themselves to him freely, though that was never the case.

The cuffs were just another subtle psychological torture device, reminding his prisoners each time they saw them, or heard them jangle as the Doc rattled the bed with his rampages, that these could be used at any time. None of his playthings held any illusions about what would happen to them if he was ever forced to employ them.

The pain of the IV needle in his hand stopped Misaki from struggling further. In his stirred state Korovin had not fastened the steel loops tightly, but they were tight enough. It would take much more than he currently possessed to even begin to try and pull out of them.

Misaki lay back against the soiled sheets, exhausted. An icy bolt of fear pierced him when he suddenly realized that Korovin must have gone after Usagi-san and Jadir.

Tears filled his eyes at the hopelessness of the whole situation. His broken legs twisted in frustration. Misaki looked down when he felt something bump up against the side of one of his casts. He saw the laptop his captor had left behind.

The screen had gone dark, but Misaki saw that the power light was still on.

Despite the excruciating pain it caused, he maneuvered one of his cast limbs over and managed to put enough pressure on the keyboard mouse to revive the laptop. The screen lit up instantly, the last program still running.

Misaki blinked away tears when he saw Usagi-san again. Akihiko was moving down a long hall at a breakneck pace; Jadir carried along piggyback. A sudden hope filled Misaki's tortured chest that Usagi-san might be able to at least save Jadir.

Then the program, still set to random, picked up another camera.

An anguished keen filled the playroom. Emanating from damaged Misaki's throat the noise sounded unhuman, like the dying cry of a spear-savaged animal as he saw Korovin too, raging down another corridor he recognized.

The two men were on a collision course and impact was imminent.

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><p><strong>So here's my newest is a Birthday present for my sweet cyber uke The Black Flamingo 101! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my beautiful Black Bird!...<br>**

**I cannot thank you enough for being such a delightful cyber uke... you make your seme very happy. And yes, flattery works wonders, as does such enthusiastic reviews.**

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><p><strong>Things are really coming to a boil it seems.<strong>

**Thanks to all you readers who have been waiting so patiently for an update for this fic. I hope that you will drop me a line now that we're back on track. I am already starting the next chapter.**

**And Thanks to all of you new readers and those re-readers who took the time to review during the re-upload. Your comments and enthusiasm really spurred me on.**

**Barettachante, Thank you so much, Koi, for your kind words and thoughts. I love having you as a reader and always smile when I see your name on a review. And no, while this story did not result in my absence, I think it was clearly indicative of the dark space I was in at the time that required my hiatus. And all of that was rough.**

**Jackattack456, I want you to have a life my dear reader, so I guess I better work on getting this story finished. Heh! Thank you for taking such an interest in my work. I am flattered that you feel it merits rereading!**

**Rosaikibu, you little devil... so nice to hear from you again!**

**Alcuzey, is it peverse of me that I was actually pleased to make someone cry in Disney World? You think they have good rides? Well hang on for this one, because it's not over yet.**

**Gothpandaotaku, Thank you so much for such a rave review! I am glad you liked the re-upload and am honored that you esteem this story so highly. Hope I can keep it up to your expectations.**

**SilentStare, I hear your plea dear reader. And with out giving you a spoiler, let me just say that I tried to kill Jadir off once and as you can see, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. But having you petition for an OC means a huge amount to me. Thank you! **

**Taniz Yami, Thank you for the review and we're rounding the corner into the home stretch.**

**Ashley Tangerine, glad you are so happy. Know what makes me happy?... Your reviews. I want Moarr too!**

**Seriously, thanks all for hanging in here with me!**

**Sincerely,**

**Cerberus**


	28. Torches

**This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Barrettachante, the 500th review for The Uke Flu. Sorry it's taken so long to get this out for you, Koi. I bow to your faithful reviewing despite my tardiness.**

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><p><strong>Days Without Sun<strong>

**Chapter 28: Torches**

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><p>Aikawa found herself propelled forcefully towards the shack by the guard at her arm. Bile had risen from her stomach along with her panic when she understood the guard's intentions and saw the glint in his eyes. Her stomach lurched when one of the man's hands dropped down and gave a groping slide that ended in a smart smack to one cheek of her ass.<p>

_Be strong, Eri._

Aikawa drew a deep breath, as her fear left her suddenly dizzy. Then, in the midst of her panic, a new thought came to her.

_Maybe strong is the wrong approach._

A sickly grin twisted Aikawa's face at this thought.

Without a moment's hesitation she followed her intuition. Stumbling into the guard she grasped for his shirt. Two seconds later she opened her mouth and retched. The contents of her stomach boiled up and spewed onto her would be assailant's starched shirt.

"What the…!" The guard immediately relinquished his hold, shoving Aikawa back as her vomit hit him. That moment of confused disgust was all she needed. She quickly twisted away, her body still heaving and bolted into the lush vegetation lining the pathway.

The guard's face contorted into a grimace at the smell of the sick now coating him. His own stomach hitched involuntarily and he doubled over, his shoulders shuddering as he fought to keep from vomiting himself.

"Mother of God!" He spat in furious revulsion.

Dropping his gun, he tore out of his soiled shirt. "Fucking whore!"

Once stripped to his tee-shirt, he grabbed his gun back up and dashed into the bushes. Dark eyes scanned his surroundings, but he saw nothing in the dim green curtain enveloping him. Even with the nearby lights of the house, within the thick tangle of the bush it was nearly impossible to see anything.

"God damn it!"

In frustration he sprayed a volley of bullets into the vegetation. The bursts of light from the automatic weapon illuminated the falling leaves kicked up by the rounds.

Shouts came from the direction of the driveway as the men still there with the car heard the shots.

Lowering his gun, the guard listened. He heard nothing outside the concerned calls of his colleagues. Even the insects' incessant humming had stopped momentarily, stunned into quiet by the shooting. He spat on the ground again, his face a mask of rage.

"What happened?" The man who'd set off Aikawa's gaydar called, running up towards the origin of the shots. Seeing his colleague emerge from the foliage with his shirt off, his eyebrows rose.

"Bitch bolted!" The angry gunman stomped past. He rubbed a rough hand through his short cropped hair, dislodging a few small leaves in the process.

The new arrival clucked his tongue in reprimand. "You shouldn't have let yourself think with your cock, Guilherme." He ignored the dark looks his comment elicited.

"This had nothing to do with my cock, asshole! The fucking cunt puked on me!"

"Regardless, whatever the reason, you better get your ass out there and find her."

Aikawa's ex-captor gritted his teeth at the tone in his companion's voice. Rather than pick a fight however, he scanned the brush again. Even with their weapons, none of Korovin's men desired to be out in the dark with the estate's hounds on the loose.

"Fuck that, Miguel. I'm not going out there!" He gazed back and wanted to smash the disapproving look off of the other guard's face. "Don't worry. The bitch doesn't stand a chance against the dogs. They'll sniff her out before you know it."

Miguel considered this truth and some of his condemnation left him. However, he was still not willing to let his co-worker off so easily.

"You better fucking pray the dogs get her, Guilherme. Before the Doc finds out what happened... Or we'll _all_ be dogfood." Before either sentry could say anything more, a shout came from the remaining man at the car.

"You guys better get your asses back here! There's someone else coming up the drive! How the hell are they getting through the gate?"

The two men looked at each other, a sudden reappraisal of their escapee occurring in each one's mind simultaneously. Their thoughts were cut short however, when a crash sounded in the direction of their companion.

"Fuck!" was cried out in unison and the men bolted towards the estate's driveway.

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><p>Aikawa tore through the brush as it tore at her. Black-fingered branches ripped her blouse. She felt more than one leafy hand grab at her bare legs. She cursed that she'd chosen to wear a skirt instead of slacks that day. The low flats she was wearing weren't helping her pace either.<p>

As soon as she could, she kicked out of her shoes and hiked up her skirt. In her adrenaline-fueled flight, she was oblivious to the sharp stones that cut her bare feet. All she was conscious of now was her burning lungs and the loudness of the breaking branches and her heavy breathing.

She realized her bag was still slung over her shoulder when it caught on a thick limb as she was crashing blindly through the brush. Reacting on instinct, rather than just allowing it to slip off, she pulled harshly. The branch gave way with much less resistance than she'd anticipated and the sudden give sent her spinning.

Losing her balance, Aikawa tumbled forward. She was unaware of how close to the edge of this wooded barrier she'd become until, in her fall, the ground suddenly dropped out beneath her and she found herself flying down a low grassy embankment.

She landed with a hard "thump" at the bottom, sprawled out on the open lawn, her breath all but knocked out of her.

_The things I do for my authors…_

A harsh, breathless laugh welled in her throat and Aikawa could feel herself teetering on the edge of hysteria.

She lay for just a second, fighting this overwhelming emotion, struggling to keep her mind present as she did a quick mental check, seeking to ascertain if her fall had done any real damage. Feeling a dozen spots scratched and stretched but nothing that seemed to be broken or really severely strained, Aikawa began to raise herself up.

No sooner had she started to rise than the crack of rifle fire broke through the night. Aikawa hugged the ground again, her taxed heart pounding even harder. Behind her she heard bullet-harried branches break and fall.

_Sweet Kami-sama… If I hadn't gone down._

After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, though less than a minute had actually passed, the shooting stopped. Aikawa lifted her head after a moment and listened. She heard soft shouts in the distance, but they didn't seem to be coming any closer. She dropped her head heavily after a moment pressing her forehead back into the cool wet grass. Her whole body tremored.

Aikawa knew she needed to get up and get moving again, but it seemed that all her strength had suddenly abandoned her. She lay there in the blessed quiet. Her shot-rattled ears strained to hear above her thundering heart and panting breath.

_Just a minute, I just need to lie here another minute…_

It seemed however, that Kami was through dealing favors for the night.

Aikawa raised her head at the sounds of heavy tread breaking through another part of the vegetation about fifty feet down from her. Here, in the openness of the lawn, the house lights lessened the night enough so that after a moment, Aikawa could make out where the rustling was.

She froze when leaves and vines parted and a huge dog dashed out onto the low turf before her.

The mastiff paused. His massive jaws were open as he panted; an enormous pink tongue lolled from his dripping jaw. Head held high, he pulled his tongue in and closed his fearsome maw as he lifted his nose and sniffed.

Aikawa's breath left her again, strangling the cry that had risen in her throat. Even so, reflective eyes flashed in the dim light and the dog suddenly snarled and began bounding towards her. Raising herself to her knees she began frantically searching around herself, looking for anything that she might possibly use as a weapon.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion now for Aikawa, with the exception of the hound whose hunting howls filled the air. Then looking to the side, the editor saw her bag. It had flown from her shoulder during her fall. Its contents lay scattered around on the ground.

Her eyes fell on two objects simultaneously and she lunged for them.

Her left hand clutched the small aerosol can of concentrated hairspray she'd been carrying with her to ward off the havoc the tropical climate had been wreaking on her hair. Her right hand grabbed for the lighter next to the package of expensive cigarettes she carried with her always, since so many of her writers tended to smoke.

Aikawa was suddenly thankful she'd never followed through on her resolution to entirely stop enabling her authors' bad habits.

It was all she could do not to close her eyes as the beast bore down on her. Her hands trembled so much the lighter fumbled in her fingers.

"Fuck!"

If the dog heard her curse he paid no heed. With a dangerous grace he coiled and launched himself off his powerful hindquarters straight at his prey.

Praying that what she'd read in one of her adventure author's works was factual, Aikawa steeled herself for the impact at the same time she flicked the lighter and depressed the trigger nozzle on the hairspray can. She jumped back at the burst of flame that erupted before her as the chemicals in the spray hit the flame. Despite the jarring, she held her makeshift flamethrower tight. The high pitched scream of the hound assailed her ears as the dog's head was submerged in fire.

Blinded and enraged with pain, the mastiff plunged forward; its jaws snapped wildly as it shook its burning head. Aikawa found her feet at last and jumped up, skittering to the side as the dog dashed forward and then began turning madly in circles. The demon dog dropped its head to the dewy ground and began snaking it through the grass, clawing frantically at its scorched muzzle, before, after one last agonized howl, it collapsed.

Aikawa did not wait to see if the dog was truly dead before she began running. She headed towards where she thought the entrance to Korovin's bunker was. She had no idea how many other dogs would be drawn by their fallen comrade's cries but had already determined that whatever hell she might find there could hardly prove worse than this.

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><p>Santo Justino had stepped into the entrance to Korovin's bunker and was surprised by the silence and the clean, modern looking interior. He noted the cameras' eyes on him the moment he moved on to the landing, but once again no alarm sounded.<p>

Gun drawn, he peered down the stairs. Seeing nothing, he did another visual sweep of the entry. His keen eyes immediately noted the scraped patch of wall next to the door's currently offline key pad. Calloused fingers swept over the marks and he noticed the dark stains on the chalky plaster.

_Someone tried to claw his way out here._

The P.I. dipped into the pocket of the jacket he wore and pulled a small black-light flashlight from it. For once he was glad of the arsenal of gadgets he kept in his pockets. Even if some of his subordinates teased him about it at times.

If there was blood here on the wall there might be more.

Santo Justino felt the knot in his throat tighten and his stomach clench when he flicked the surprisingly wide beam of light down the wall and onto the floor.

Though the tiles beneath him were clean to the naked eye, it was obvious from the glowing residue left behind that where he was standing had once been awash in blood. He followed the trail down the stairs to another place at their base where another pool of had obviously congealed.

Here he noted that someone must have been dragged while badly bleeding. A sudden wave of fear gripped Santo Justino. Perhaps this spill belonged to Usami; perhaps Korovin had not wished to play with the author after all, but had instead met the man at the door and dispatched him instantly.

_But if that was the case, would Korovin have cleaned up already?_

_Maybe there's more than one person at work here. Maybe the good doctor has a partner._

Santo Justino's mind swirled with the possibilities. He'd known some of the human animals he'd tracked to hunt in pairs or packs. But in his mind Korovin seemed far more like a loner.

_Even if this blood is old, it still might lead me to his lair._

He had little else to go on now. As he moved through the hall and stepped through another set of unlocked doors, Santo Justino could see hallways splitting and branching out in to more passages.

_It's a god damn maze in here._

His eyes followed the trail set off by his black light. He was dizzied by the number of closed doors and passageways.

_There is no way in hell I want to get lost in this place._

Looking over at the wall beside him, the detective freed one of his hands to once again dip into his pocket.

His fingers touched a cool metal cylinder and brought out a tube of lipstick. Eri had left it on the nightstand when she'd parted from him after their intimate night together. He'd meant to give it back to her, but in the day's drama it had stayed there forgotten amongst all his other paraphernalia.

A bitter smile twisted Santo Justino's handsome mouth. He had tempted fate too many times in his life to have a casual relationship with her any more: batteries went dead, tools and weapons could be dropped or knocked out of one's hands; the trail he was following could lead to a dead end.

He undid the cap and made a small bright pink cross on the wall, knowing that even in this he was still tempting the capricious entity of chance.

_These marks may either guide me out of here eventually or lead others to where my body lies._

_Dear Virgin protect me._

The prayer uttered in Santo Justino's mind fluttered there, never making it to his lips. The bitter smile dropped, pulled into a tight line as he capped Eri's lipstick and raised both his gun and his torch again.

The invisible trail of blood glowed ghostly silver beneath his light. It rolled like a river of death down the hall before him.

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><p><strong>Now, I know that some of you will be sorely disappointed that this chapter only had Aikawa and an OC. But the chapter was getting too long so I decided to cut it off here. The next chapter will be forthcoming far sooner than my updates have of late. Hopefully it will make all you dear readers happy to know I have decided to write this story through to the end, since the climax is rapidly approaching. So I will be working on this and setting aside my revisions until this tale is done.<strong>

**Thank you for hanging in here with me as I have been striving to get things back in order. Both personally and with my stories. I'd love to hear from you, if you're still out there.**

**Usagi-san, Korovin, and Jadir are next... *Shivers * It's going to be tense.**

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><p><strong>Thank you for the followsfavorites and of course you know my addiction to reviews.**

**Hope to hear from you.**


	29. Collision

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Twenty-nine: Collision**

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><p>Working his way as quickly down the corridors of Korovin's bunker as his caution allowed, Santo Justino felt his adrenaline build with each step. His keen ears strained momentarily as he passed each silent door, listening for any telltale sound of movement behind it.<p>

He now held Aikawa's lipstick out again, uncapped along with his black-light in one hand; gun clasped in the other. He'd fallen into a rhythm, pausing at regular intervals to mark his totemic crosses. As he did this, his mind flashed with the fairytales his mother had told him as a child, most notably "Hansel and Gretel."

But this was no fiction, and Santo Justino quickly pushed these and any other stray thoughts from his mind as he focused on the narrow hall before him. He knew that in situations like this, a brain hopped up on danger could dart in all kinds of directions and one misstep would be all it took for him to lose his life and possibly others.

His eyes dropped back down momentarily to the mesmerizing trail that rolled glowing before him a far as the beam of his black-light extended. He tensed when after advancing several more yards, the path beyond him veered.

It curved sharply, disappearing beneath a closed door.

Santo Justino lightened his already near-silent steps. He marked a quick cross next to the door before he recapped Aikawa's lipstick once more and returned it and the light to his pocket. He was unsure of whether he did this now to illustrate his location or as petition for protection.

Depending on what was behind the thick wooden slab in front of him, he would soon find out.

Pressing his ear to the smooth, cool surface, he listened. The hand not gripping his gun took careful hold of the knob and twisted. The breath caught in Santo Justino's throat as the doorknob turned easily, quietly.

This was the moment that was always the worst: that second before he stepped into the unknown with no easy retreat.

It was the same when he'd been a cop. When he knew he had to proceed, but could never be sure of what the car he'd just pulled over carried, what lay behind the door of the call he was answering, or in the depths of the dark alley he was following a perpetrator into.

Once he knew what the fuck it was he was dealing with, he could react, respond, but until then…

Door unlatched, the detective gripped his gun with both hands. He nudged it open with his foot, stepping slightly off to the side. The movement of the door triggered a dim overhead light inside. Santo Justino tensed at the illumination and waited.

Silence.

Advancing carefully, he pressed the door open further. Met with no resistance, he slipped inside. His eyes took in the scene and he suppressed the chill that had suddenly run down his spine.

He no longer needed his black-light. Whatever carnage had occurred here had happened some time ago but the evidence of it was still clearly visible: beneath his feet, the tiled floor was black with dried blood.

Santo Justino's sharp eyes further scanned the room now that he felt sure it was empty.

Before him laid a small surgery set up. Two stainless steel tables shone dully in the weak overhead light. Mobile trays held dirty tools. Empty I.V. drips hung limply from poles.

_Whatever happened here, it was messy._

Beneath one table was a large, dark stain of crusted blood.

_That must have belonged to whoever made the trail I have been following_.

Santo Justino doubted grimly if anyone could survive that kind of loss. He shook his head in sad dismay.

Despite the fact it had become obvious that no one had been in this room for some time, he moved further in; his eyes drawn to another door at the back of the surgery, this one steel.

Reaching the door, he set a palm on its surface. Under his skin he felt the thrum of electricity. His brow furrowed.

The catch on this door was different from the one in the hall. With a cautious hand, Santo Justino reached down and depressed the levered latch. The steel slab opened outward and a blast of chilled air rushed to greet him.

Santo Justino knew he should be tracking Usami, but he also knew what the possibility of a refrigerated room portended and he couldn't keep himself from investigating it further.

No light had been tripped by the opening of this room. Glancing around, Santo Justino grabbed a tray from one of the mobile surgical dolleys and used it to prop the door. The last thing he wanted was to end up trapped and freezing if it somehow shut and unexpectedly locked behind him.

The door secured, he reached a hand out into the blackness of the cooler and his nimble fingers soon located a switch along the wall. The quiet hum of the space intensified as overhead fluorescents suddenly glowed, revealing the room's interior.

Santo Justino felt an invisible iron hand grip his chest, constricting it painfully. He could feel the blood drain from his face at the scene that lay before him. He uttered a near-breathless gasp.

"Sweet Mother of God."

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><p>Akihiko moved purposefully down the winding halls of Korovin's maze. From his piggybacked position, Jadir navigated them smoothly towards the playroom.<p>

In addition to the directions, after years of forced muteness, Jadir had suddenly regained his tongue. He kept up a whispered monologue, one whose pace was frantic. It was as if he knew he would not survive whatever their future encounter with his captor held and so, he was making his final confession to Akihiko in a mix of Portuguese and broken English.

Akihiko's normally light complexion was ghostly now: white with rage and horror.

He wished to silence Jadir, but he couldn't bring himself to shush the battered youth. His mind reeled, completely overwhelmed by what he could make out from the boy's ramblings. His attention was dangerously divided between what lay ahead and trying to determine if there was anything in Jadir's terrifying words he could use as a weapon against the inhuman filth that taken his Misaki, Jadir, and the other boys he'd so recently left behind.

Despite his wish that Jadir's unending reel of tragedy would cease, Akihiko stopped when Jadir suddenly uttered a gasp and fell silent.

"Jadir, are you alright?"

Akihiko adjusted his hold on spindly legs as he felt the youth on his back shudder. The thin arm around his neck tightened. Behind him Jadir moaned. Akihiko frowned as he felt a new dampness, one different than their shared sweat, seep through the back of his shirt. He wondered if the boy had lost his bladder, but the placement of the wetness wasn't quite right for that.

His mind returned to the mixture of blood and cum he had noticed dripping down Jadir's legs as he'd raised his head after apologizing. It was obvious the boy had been injured, but the spreading patch on his back was also far from where Jadir's most obvious wounding was.

Another spasm wracked Jadir's lean frame. The boy groaned again, his body stiffened and tensed. Then suddenly, he relaxed.

Akihiko stood, wanting to move forward, but unsure if he dared jostle the boy. A sudden fear gripped him at Jadir's new stillness and he was filled with horror that the youth had just died. His heart resumed beating when, after another moment of silence, Jadir gasped out weakly.

"I am okay. Please, Usami, we need to keep moving."

"I don't know, Jadir. I'm thinking again that I'd best leave you here and go on alone."

Akihiko made to loosen his grip and slip Jadir down from his back. He started when the arm around his neck suddenly held him with a strength he'd never imagined possible from the boy behind him.

"No… I have to be there…"

Akihiko hastened forward at this. He wasn't one to normally take argument, but he knew in this instant every second they lingered left not only them, but also Misaki, in greater danger.

His movement however, was arrested again within just a few steps by another sharp gasp from Jadir. This shaky breath spoke of an entirely new kind of pain, as did the shudder, so strong it shook them both. It took Akihiko no time in this instance to ascertain the source of the wound.

Korovin had just rounded the corner and now stood down the hall before them.

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><p>Within the frigid confines of the refrigerated room, Santo Justino found he had broken into an uncomfortable sweat. His dark eyes loomed unusually large within his handsome face, their usually sharp gleam slightly glazed.<p>

"Mother of God."

The words fell unbidden again from his lips. It had become an unconscious mantra within the last minute as his gaze swept over the deep shelves, three high, lining the cooler's interior. In contrast to the chaos of the surgical room, the refrigerator reflected a pristine organization.

_There must be at least sixty…_

Santo Justino tried once more to recalculate, hoping that somehow his usually acute math skills were wrong. But try as he might, the answer to the number of body bags that lined the shelves didn't alter.

Biting back the rising revulsion of his discovery, the detective stepped further into the room. He moved over to one of the frosted, black, polyethylene bags that lay neatly spaced between its brothers.

Running a hand over the end of the bag, a clear plastic pouch was revealed. It bore a name.

_Vinicius__Ribeiro_

This was one of the names on Flynn's list of missing young men.

Santo Justino moved down to the bag to the left of Ribeiro's; beneath the heat of his hand another name appeared.

_Egon Fuerst_

The detective recognized this name too among Flynn's "disappeared." The teen was not Brazilian, but a troubled German national who had vanished some time ago from a local surf haven. Santo Justino's hand hovered over the zippered bag.

Just before he brought it down to open the slick surface of death's cocoon to view its contents, he stopped.

It was not that he couldn't face death. He had encountered it many times over the years in all its often terrible permutations, but in this moment, Santo Justino could clearly feel the weight of unheard cries pressing down on him. Chiding himself for being foolish, he steeled himself and, after another moment's pause, opened Egon's bag.

Confronting the brutalized corpse, Santo Justino knew now, without a doubt, that each person in Korovin's icy mausoleum had suffered terribly.

Gazing down on this scene of frozen horror, the P.I.'s usually iron staunch legs unexpectedly buckled and he staggered. He gripped the edge of the shelf directly before him to steady himself. Looking down, his burning eyes made a startling discovery. The bag in front of him was empty.

_Almost empty,_he corrected.

There was a small bump in the otherwise smooth, slick surface.

Santo Justino felt his fingers drawn forward. This time they did not hesitate as they grasped the cold, stiff zipper and pulled.

Parting the chill-crisp plastic of the bodybag, Santo Justino encountered a single arm. Discolored by death, the limb still showed visible signs of severe trauma. Dark contusions pooled black beneath its waxy, scarred, pale surface.

His professional eye noted quickly that the arm was emaciated. Though the point at which the limb had been severed had obviously been done with a surgeon's skills, in other places the flesh had been brutally torn. Santo Justino observed teeth marks, most likely canine. He saw also that all but one finger and the thumb were missing, not severed, but amputated.

His thoughts went to the finger Usami had been sent. His fevered eyes immediately sought the name on the bag.

_If only the arm is here, then… Then maybe the rest of him is still alive, somewhere._

Santo Justino cursed out loud when the name on this bag was revealed.

_Jadir Cavaco_

He knew of the boy. His disappearance had been all over the news a few years ago and resurfaced even now on local stations occasionally.

Unable to bear looking at the name or the silent accusation it held, his eyes fell on the completely empty bag adjacent Jadir's. The name on it was quickly discerned.

_Takahashi Misaki_

Santo Justino backed away from the shelf. His excited gaze traveled the room and he noticed on other shelves, spaces where empty bags also waited.

_There's still hope._

_Please let there be time too._

Santo Justino felt lighter somehow. He knew he could not linger here among the dead any longer. With haste, he gathered himself and left Korovin's frozen mass grave behind him after promising justice to this animal's victims.

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><p>"Usami!"<p>

Korovin's voice ricocheted off the walls of the empty corridor. The mad rage that had been burning in his eyes as he'd rounded the corner immediately dialed itself down to something cooler and far more sinister.

Akihiko's own eyes narrowed and he struggled to keep his face impassive.

At least twenty feet still separated them, but Akihiko suddenly found it difficult to breathe. His burning hatred all but suffocated him being so close to Misaki's torturer.

"Korovin."

Akihiko could feel Jadir trembling against him. He drew himself up and bristled protectively as he faced the man who had also reduced the poor lamb on his back to his decrepit state.

"I thought you were going to wait for us to join you? I would have hastened my pace, had I known you were such an anxious host."

Korovin felt his rage bubbling dangerously back up at Usami's cool, mocking tone.

"Can the 007 bullshit dialogue, Usami. That might work in books, but not here!

"You couldn't think I would allow you to have your fuck toy after the idiotic stunt you pulled with my cameras?"

Akihiko looked startled by these words. He feigned incomprehension. It was an expression he'd perfected long ago, from when his father would try to draw him into understanding the family company's business matters.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Shut up! I can see now where your little Taka-cunt got his deceptive prowess!"

Akihiko's eyes truly widened at this. As long as he'd known Misaki, his lover had always been a horrible liar. He wondered what his sweet Misaki had been hiding from this fiend… and what it might have cost him.

Seeing the expression on Usami's face, Korovin felt a momentary confusion.

_Have I overerestimated Usami?_This thought stirred him further and his ill-heeled fury threatened to overwhelm him.

_I can't allow myself to get carried away… Yet…_

Akihiko had remained silent, but his keen gaze caught Korovin's hesitation. He knew his only hope was to keep the devil off-balance.

"I want my Misaki." He said this without heat, but the strength of his words filled the hall. A wicked sneer twisted Korovin's face.

"I have no doubt you do." Korovin reached into his pocket and withdrew the remote. "He is such a sweet fuck, after all."

Akihiko stiffened at these words, despite his resolve. He thought of Jadir's soiled legs, of the boy's whispered violations. A wave of emotions rose up and crashed within his chest. Fighting the sensation he was suddenly drowning, however, he held his tongue at Korovin's taunt.

"Of course, you should have thought of that before you came barging in here and tried to make a fool of me, Usami!" Korovin's thumb hovered dangerously over the trigger of the remote.

Akihiko saw the truth in Korovin's eyes. He took a lurching step forward as the Doc's thumb lowered slowly, stopping just a hair's breadth above the trigger.

"STOP!"

Both men started at their shared exclamations: Akihiko calling for Korovin to spare his beloved; Korovin seeking to halt Akihiko's advance.

A disconcerting smile now graced Korovin's face. He was back in control.

Akihiko's voice was much softer now. "I have Jadir."

"So you do." Korovin's smile widened. "But I imagine it would be hard for you to kill him at the moment, carrying him as you are."

Akihiko frowned at this.

"It seems you two made up quite quickly… By the way, Usami… Where's your gun?"

At these words, Akihiko slowly slid Jadir from his back. The moment his feet hit the cement floor, without the broad comfort of shoulders and back to support him, Jadir doubled over.

Akihiko bent down to Jadir, but before he could lay a hand on him, Korovin stopped him.

"Touch him and Takahashi is dead, Usami."

Akihiko froze where he stood, but then straightened and studied Korovin with something that bordered on amused.

"Paranoid much?"

Korovin snorted at the comment. "It has enabled me to live a long and enjoyable life, thus far."

"Well, as you can clearly see now, it wasn't so much a matter of 'making up,' as it was the fact he's hardly in any condition to resist." Akihiko tried to keep his expression cold as he glanced at the broken boy huddled at his feet.

He shifted his eyes to Korovin. "You said you wanted him, after all. Didn't you? I was only trying to comply.

"And as for my gun… Well, there wouldn't have been an easy way for me to carry it and him. Now would there?

"Besides, I didn't imagine you'd appreciate me bringing it along."

Korovin quirked a brow at Akihiko. "You know, I never found your novels believable and now I know why…"

"Jadir!"

At the bellow of his name, Jadir's head rose. His skin was pale and a sheen of sweat beaded his forehead.

"Take off that coat and bring it here!"

Jadir's remaining hand drifted up and grazed the collar of the light jacket Akihiko had draped around him. Without intending to, he looked up at Akihiko.

Akihiko had hoped Jadir's collapse was a theatric cover to help hide the scalpel taped to the underside of his stump from Korovin's view. But looking into the pain-glazed eyes staring up at him, he was horribly concerned about Jadir's state. He wondered again if it might not be too late for the boy.

Then, given what Jadir had told him as they'd traveled the halls, he wondered too, if death might not bring the poor youth his best chance at peace.

He gave Jadir the barest nod, but Korovin caught the exchange. Seeing Jadir… _his Jadir_, defer to Usami, the contentment he'd felt at having things back in hand instantly shattered.

"Jadir!" Spittle flew as he called his pet's name again. "Shuck that coat and get your worthless ass over here!"

Akihiko knew that the moment Korovin had Jadir he'd have no bargaining chips left. It was part of their plan, but it seemed utter madness now. He watched with mounting dread as Jadir removed the jacket with trembling fingers.

The boy tried to stand again and it was then that Akihiko noticed that there was something wrong with Jadir's swollen stomach. His navel was discolored and stretched oddly out of shape. A clear viscous fluid wept from it and coated Jadir's distended belly.

Unable to stay straight for more than a few moments, Jadir crumpled again to the floor. Here, he clumsily finished drawing out of the coat.

Akihiko realized now that this was what he'd felt against his back earlier. His heart clenched at the possible implications of this development.

He was torn from his reverie by Korovin's next words.

"Now, it's your turn, Usami."

Akihiko turned puzzled eyes away from Jadir.

"What?"

"You heard me, Usami! Strip!" Korovin's gaze held a terrible gleam.

"Why the hell…"

"Please excuse, what we have determined, is my untrusting nature. But while I feel quite convinced that you secreted something away in that coat for Jadir to damage me with, I doubt you'd trust your gun to him.

"Besides," a harsh barking laugh erupted from Korovin's lips. "He hasn't the fingers or the strength to be an effective trigger man now. Has he?"

"You're insane…" Akihiko's chanced another step forward but his motion stopped and the words died on his lips as Korovin's thumb suggestively rubbed over the button on the remote that held Misaki's fate.

"Uh uh uh…Usami."

Despite the teasing tone Korovin's expression was cold. His next words were devoid of any humor at all and in fact were uttered in an incredibly malicious hiss.

"I really think that it's time you understand the true nature of your present situation. I am done playing.

"The next time you tempt me, I will kill Takahashi. The best you can hope for now is that I offer you a chance to see your beloved rabbit hole before I kill you both.

"If you're _very_ well behaved, I might even allow you two to exit together."

_So good of you._Akihiko's eyes flashed his thoughts, but he said nothing. He could not risk provoking Korovin further.

"My house. My Rules."

Shaking his head in defeat, Akihiko began unbuttoning his shirt with steady fingers. He growled in disgust as it slid from his shoulders and Korovin's bright eyes traced over his sweat-slicked skin with unabashed lust.

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><p><strong>General AN:<strong>

**So, this is so close to finished. I am just going to keep writing and posting when there seems like enough for another chapter and I have found some tantalizing page break.**

**Also, I just wanted to let you know that The Black Flamingo 101 has recently been posting some original fiction over on FF's sister site: Fictionpress. The stories are great and if you're looking for new, hot yaoi to entertain you during these sultry summer days, I encourage to pop over and take a look. And please drop her a review.**

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><p><strong>Shout Outs:<strong>

**Soratalex and Blaysers- Thanks for the favorites and follows.**

**Smileandsleep, Invisible Image, Kai, Guest, Primordium, Blaysers - Thank you for chiming in. Glad you have been enjoying this story. We're getting so close to the end! Hang in there, Misaki!**

**Barrettachante- So pleased you found your chapter, Koi. Appreciate the worries, but I am tougher than I sound in my ANs.**

**Alcuzey- Yeah, killing the dog was not easy… but I needed Aikawa alive more… So…**

**Silentstare- Happy to hear from you. Love your enthusiasm. I wouldn't recommend you try it. Flammables can be unruly.**

**Pheonixette101- Well, hopefully you won't have to wait years. Thank you for the kind words though and the new one: "FANTASMICAL." Adding it to my repertoire.**

**Puupyfacetwo- So faithful. And sorry to hear about your pup's whiskers. Fourth of July accident? Glad to hear he's healing.**

**Sarah- Thank you so much for chiming in. It pleases me greatly when a longtime reader or follower of a story lets me know they've been traveling a tale with me. I appreciate that you and the other readers have not been too annoyed with my OCs in this fic. Makes me feel like I have done something right. Never abandon a story… Just set them aside occasionally for far longer than I should.**

**SlythClover- Clover-san, you're so kind when I have been so remiss. Please know I have not abandoned my intentions to review "Junjou Therapy." Just more behind these days than usual. I have thought of you and your wonderful words often in my travels.**

**TBF101-My sweet Uke Bird, few things I like more than hearing you "squee!" Thank you for all the wonderful updates of your fics to keep me inspired. Be on the lookout for my own little nod to your rocking JR adventure "Digamma." I hadn't thought about it, but you're right. I don't think I have ever read a JR FF where Aikawa is as active (beyond fangirling) or a fic that really focuses on her. Hmmmm… more inspiration for Don't Preach's Minimum Damage. I really appreciate how receptive the readers have been to a strong, constructive female presence in this fic. Gives me hope for the yaoi world, somehow.**

**Leigh's Last Laugh- Delighted to be able to pull you from your shadows and into my own. Your comments are always acute and I relish that you steer me in previous un-realized directions. The note on Jadir and the crosses was very apt. I shall put that in my hopper and take it under consideration, should he prevail. (Now that I have killed two fictional dogs, moving to fictional people doesn't seem such a great leap, as you might now guess from the number of bodies in Korovin's lair.) The contrast between Akihiko and Santo Justino and their approaches is significant for an upcoming chapter. And yes, the scene has been set for the Calvary's charge. How that will unfold… well… Now you'll just have to wait and see. Heh.**


	30. Closing

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Thirty: Closing**

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><p>Aikawa had no sooner taken flight than she stumbled again as a small explosion boomed behind her. Scrambling back upright, she cast wide eyes over her shoulder and saw a flower of flame blooming in the direction of the driveway, just beyond the jungled patch she'd run through. Following the blast, the rapid crackle of machine gun fire filled the night, along with the loud cries of warring and wounded men.<p>

Though it seemed too soon for the international squad Alvarez had mentioned, Aikawa was filled with a sudden hope.

_Maybe I should just hunker down and let the Calvary find me._

She was no fainting damsel in distress, but her slender limbs were trembling in exertion and fright. The recent events had far exceeded her normal operations as an active and autonomous woman.

Before the evading forces, whoever they were, had the chance to locate her, however, Korovin's hounds did. Aikawa's head snapped around as a new auditory chaos was added to the din. Three terrifying hounds had been roused by the cries of their dying comrade and were now flying across the grounds towards her.

Aikawa gave a yelp and pushed off again, her bare feet carrying her quickly across the grassy lawn. Her mind raced as frantically as her legs, as she tried to piece together what she'd seen on the screens in Augusto's office with her surroundings.

Veering off to the left, in what she hoped was the correct direction, she prayed to her ancestors to guide her.

_I promise I will visit the family grave more often; I will give an offering to the temple; I will stop drinking too much at office events; I will stop cursing at my authors; I will stop lusting after men… Well, gay men at least…_

She was fast running out of things to promise when up ahead of her she suddenly recognized the building that had been identified as the estate's bunker. The sound of the dogs had come much closer. Aikawa could even hear their loud panting now and heavy footfalls pounding the turf.

_Oh, please… please…_

She wanted desperately to look behind her, but she had run track in high school and knew that such a move would break her momentum. So instead, she lowered her head and dug deep. Her burning lungs scorched hotter as she put everything she had into one final burst of speed to carry her to the bunker's door.

Her goal loomed ahead. With every footfall Aikawa expected to feel an iron maw grip her heel.

She still held the lighter and her aerosol, one in each pumping fist, but she'd no idea how much of the spray was left and it certainly wouldn't be enough to take on all three hounds.

_But if the door is locked._

Aikawa felt the jolt to her bones as the grass ended and her bare feet slapped the concrete walk that led to the building before her. It seemed as though she'd barely headed down this when she heard the hard scrabble of nails on the cement behind her.

The hand holding lighter reached out before her. The lighter slipped from her fingers as they stretched for the knob, but before she could even gasp out a curse, they were twisting and the door was swinging out towards her.

Hardly letting it open enough to accommodate her passage, Aikawa slipped in. She did curse now, as one of her shoulders hit the door. She could feel her skin tear, beneath her now-ragged blouse. Pushing past this new pain, Aikawa forced herself forwards. The moment she cleared the door, she dropped the aerosol can she was holding and both hands grabbed the door knob and pulled it hard behind her.

No sooner had the latch caught than Aikawa shrieked as one of the hounds' bodies collided with the door. The impact of the hit was hard enough to dent the metal and send a crack spiraling out through the double-paned window.

Even though there were bars over the glass on her side, Aikawa leapt backwards.

Another heavy thud followed as the second mastiff hit. The muffled noise of the dogs' raucous howls and frantic barking bled through the heavy door. The skittering screech of nails against steel as the dogs madly tried to tear through to their prey filled the small entry.

Filled with a primal panic by these sounds, Aikawa turned and bolted blindly down the stairs.

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><p>Without his bloody trail to guide him, Santo-Justino felt himself now at a distinct loss. Still, he'd exited Korovin's chamber of death and followed the hall he'd last been in, traveling away from his initial path, allowing himself to be drawn deeper into the bowels of Korovin's mazed world.<p>

After several more twists and turns, the hall that Santo Justino was in ended in a "T." He was filled with a rising sense of frustration, wondering which of the two new directions he should go and knowing he was, in actuality, completely lost. He understood only too well, that with every uniformed step he was losing valuable time.

At a sudden loss for productive motion, Santo Justino had just stepped up to the wall before him to mark another of his guiding crosses, when a glint off the slick floor at the far reach of the corridor to left caught his eye.

Moving quickly to this, Santo Justino found himself looking down at a drying puddle of fluid. The hall reeked of stomach bile and sperm.

_Is this from Usami or someone else?_

The detective felt his heart accelerate and his spirit revive as he thought of the empty bags in Korovin's freezer.

_One of Korovin's captives, maybe?_

Looking up from this spew, just beyond it, Santo Justino saw a good sized black duffle, apparently abandoned, sitting open on the floor.

Stepping quickly over to it, the detective squatted down. Peering into the bag, he stuck in a tentative hand and shifted the contents. Whoever the bag belonged to, he was loaded for bear. Given some of the tools in the duffle, its owner was obviously intent on causing someone some significant and painful damage.

He picked up a crisp leather wallet from the bottom of the rucksack and flipped it open. The name that greeted him was new, but the cool eyes staring back at him were very familiar.

_Usami._

A new fear gripped him. He'd obviously underestimated his client. And what was more, given the contents of the sack, it was clear that the man had been pushed over the edge.

While he still didn't think that Usami had any chance in a face to face confrontation with Korovin, Santo Justino felt even more strongly now that he had to locate these two men soon.

His mind flashed to the cold depths of Korovin's freezer and to the report of all Korovin's other atrocities. While he knew all too well the rage that gripped Usami, he believed wholeheartedly that what Korovin's victims needed was justice… Not revenge.

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><p>Akihiko unbuttoned the black cuffs of his shirt with aplomb, despite the burn of Korovin's lecherous eyes traveling over his flesh. His pale skin glowed against the dark fabric. Cuffs undone, he pulled out of his sleeves with a certain languid grace, though his gaze was constantly flickering to the remote clasped in Korovin's hand, checking to see if the man's thumb had shifted.<p>

Korovin gave a cackle of satisfaction when Akihiko's wrist sheath was revealed.

Akihiko met his over-bright eyes and he shrugged. "You know, they make these things so light nowadays, it's easy to forget you're wearing one."

Korovin snorted at this.

"Take it off and throw it to the side."

Akihiko nodded and complied. "You can't blame me for trying." His tone was light, but his face was grim as the sleeve-scabbard clattered against the floor, far to his right.

"Ah... but I can punish you for it."

Akihiko bowed his head at these words, glimpsing Korovin's thumb ever so lightly tapping the trigger.

The gun Jadir had taped high up between his shoulder blades burned like a brand against his skin. He'd had Jadir dry his skin as best he could, before applying the surgical tape, but feeling the nervous sweat, dripping down his back now, Akihiko prayed it would hold until he had his chance.

_It would be so easy, to reach back. One quick move…_

But as long as Korovin literally held Misaki's life in his hand, there was no way he could risk it.

"While you're considering your behavior… and I your punishment…" Korovin's voice snapped Akihiko from his thoughts. "Jadir, come!" Korovin's command was clear and demanding.

Akihiko's lowered eyes shifted to Jadir, who seemed to be locked into another spasm.

"I don't think he can make it. I'd best help him."

"You stay where you are, Usami!" Korovin shot a hard glare at Akihiko. "I imagine you'd like that…

"You… Jadir… and the coat you so gentlemanly offered… All nice and close…"

"No, if he can't walk, Jadir can crawl here."

Akihiko watched, his insides tormented as Jadir obeyed and weakly dragged himself towards Korovin, pulling the coat along in his remaining, white-knuckled hand. The boy was obviously in a tremendous amount of pain.

He was about five feet from his captor when Korovin stopped him.

"Push the coat to me, Jadir."

Though it seemed to take him an extraordinary effort, Jadir tossed the jacket towards his master, but it fell short.

Korovin growled in annoyance and stepped forward. He caught the fabric with his foot and pulled the coat towards him; his trigger hand holding steady. When the garment was resting at his feet, he bent down to retrieve it.

He disregarded Jadir, who now lay curled on his side, breathing heavily. Jadir's hand grasped his lower belly. Even when the boy uttered a low moan, Korovin kept his eyes fixed on Akihiko.

The two men stared at each other unblinkingly.

Korovin draped the jacket over the arm that held the remote and his free hand very carefully rubbed lightly over one pocket. His brow quirked and a moment later he stuck his fingers gingerly in and pulled it inside out.

It was empty.

The Doc cocked his head slightly and his eyes flickered between the empty pocket and Usami. He noted a tic in Usami's brow and a different shade in the man's pale eyes. Korovin's hand sought out the jacket's other pocket.

Going through the same process soon revealed it to be empty as well.

Korovin felt a perverse joy in the shocked expression that now showed so plainly on Usami's face. But he was unprepared for the sudden outburst that followed.

"What the fuck, Jadir? Where's the knife?"

Jadir lifted his head. Whatever tremor had gripped him just minutes ago seemed to have passed. Rather than turn to answer Akihiko's furious query, Jadir looked over at Korovin with pleading eyes.

"Gone."

At this single word, croaked from Jadir's ragged throat, Korovin's face lit up with wide and wicked smile. Korovin allowed the coat to flutter down from his arms. His chest swelled with a mad pleasure at his pet's action and Usami's fist-clenching rage.

He stepped over to Jadir, grabbed the boy by his close cropped hair with his free hand and pulled his pet up to his feet. Once raised, Korovin's hand slipped down and gripped Jadir's slender throat.

Keeping one eye on Usami, his trigger hand held out to the side, Korovin kissed Jadir savagely, re-splitting the boy's already broken bottom lip. Jadir's hand grasped Korovin's strong wrist as he fought to stay upright. His two fingers scrabbled against his captor's flesh as his breath was cut short by the broad thumb crushing his windpipe.

Jadir thrashed weakly but at last submitted and stilled. As soon as he did this, Korovin released his pet's mouth and lessened his grip on his throat.

Korovin's eyes left Usami for only an instant. He sought out Jadir's and once he knew he'd touched the soul of the boy, beneath the fluttering lids; he gave a quick glance down at the youth's slick, distended belly.

"Three more months…"

"Well, I suppose it should comfort me to know you could do at least one thing right, Pet." Korovin relinquished his hold on Jadir completely with a shove and Jadir staggered sideways and crumpled.

Akihiko knew he should have taken a shot while Korovin had been attending to Jadir, but the boy had been in front of the demon.

Had his anger at the supposedly "gone" knife been real and not a play to appeal to Korovin's pride and get Jadir close enough to his master to strike out, Akihiko supposed he could have shot without hesitation. However, Jadir had shown such immense bravery in this precarious gamble, so, even as close as the youth seemed to death, Akihiko found he could not let it come from his own hand.

_Mercy though this might be._

His eyes lingered on Jadir's still form for only a second. The boy looked to be unconscious, his breathing labored and shallow.

Akihiko knew he was on his own now. Lavender eyes flicked back to Korovin who was obviously gloating.

"I imagine that must be quite a blow to your ego, Usami. Especially since it seems there are generally few who are impervious to your charms." Korovin's tongue flicked out and licked a spot of Jadir's blood from the corner of his mouth.

Akihiko's bare shoulders twitched in what might be read as another shrug. "What should I have expected? I did put a gun to his head.

"But it was worth a shot."

Korovin's brow twitched at how quickly his opponent had recovered his composure. He couldn't wait to break Usami of his cool impertinence. His thumb ghosted around the remote's trigger and he was pleased with how quickly Usami's countenance changed. The broad shoulders dipped ever so slightly but this time they stayed down.

"Anything else you'd like to confess? I will tell you now, the price of your first penance is already going to be damnably high." Korovin held out the remote, relishing watching Usami shift uneasily.

"I have an ankle sheath as well."

Korovin grinned broadly. "Well, let's see it then. And you can lose the rest of your clothes now, the shoes too, while you're at it."

Rather than bend down, knowing that if he did, Korovin would see his gun, Akihiko dropped gracefully without complaint into a seated position on the floor and began untying his shoes. He stripped off his socks next and then undid the ankle sheath.

He was preparing to throw it off to the side as he had the wrist sheath, but Korovin stopped him.

"I'd like to see the knife."

_I'd like you to see it too… Closely._ Akihiko's mouth formed a grim line as he pulled the blade from its scabbard. It glinted wickedly under the light.

"Nice…" Korovin looked appreciatively from the blade to Usami.

"Think you can hold on to that while divesting yourself of the rest of your clothes?"

Akihiko studied Korovin, curiously. He grunted at the rhetorical question and then rose slowly to his feet, blade in hand and began to undo his belt.

"You know, Usami, you're not the only one who's been withholding a little information here." Korovin's voice had taken on a sly, smug tone.

Akihiko's hands stilled and one eyebrow cocked.

"I don't think I told you to stop. Off!"

Akihiko kept his gaze coolly fixed on Korovin as his thumbs hooked the top of both his pants and his briefs and began to slide these down off his narrow hips.

Korovin was silent as he watched Usami's pants slip down revealing long muscular legs. His eyes swept back up over Usami, in his entirety then. He admired the broad shoulders and developed, but tightly-muscled chest.

Akihiko's normally lean lines had sharpened in Misaki's absence. The ridges of his taut belly were more pronounced, as was the sinewy strength of his arms.

Dropping his gaze down again, Korovin's eyes took on a feverish glint at the sight of his adversary's heavy ball sac and limp cock. He licked his lips with a thick tongue.

"Impressive. I guess you're not conventionally Japanese in more ways than one." Korovin nodded at Usami's member, sizable even when un-aroused.

Akihiko's face remained unmoved but his eyes narrowed.

_Racist bastard._

Korovin caught the subtle gesture and smiled, feeling he was getting an excellent understanding now of his new grownup toy.

_Let's play a bit._

"As I was saying before I got distracted... About information withheld, naughty secrets kept... You might be interested to know about a lovely hallucinogenic I've engineered. I administered it to your little whore some time back.

"It was designed to locate the mind's most terrible memories and call them forth with great clarity. It traps its taker into the most horrible nightmares that go on for hours, built on the recipient's life events. It doesn't matter if one's eyes are open or closed, if he is conscious or unconscious.

"You should have heard your little rabbit hole screaming when his mangled parents came for an extended visit. Or when his older brother wanted to lock him away for being a deviant."

Korovin's face took on an evil leer. "Or when he begged you not to rape him, but you wouldn't stop pounding him." He cackled seeing the effect this had on Usami. He watched as Usami's face fell and Korovin thought for a moment author was even tearing up.

"Hmmm… or was that me? I get so confused sometimes…"

Akihiko's voice was barely a whisper. "I am nothing like you."

"Maybe so… But if that's true, why don't you take that knife and show me where it's going to hurt you the most when I press this trigger.

"Heart… Or cock?

"First, punishment… You choose."

Akihiko looked at Korovin with a solemn expression on his face. His voice was filled with disdain. "As if there was any question."

Without any hesitation he pressed the blade of the knife to his chest.

Korovin was annoyed by Usami's haughty tone.

"Show me."

Pressing the steel to his skin, Akihiko tried to keep his face still. Not because of the pain he felt as the blade bit into his flesh, but because next to Korovin he suddenly saw Jadir twitch.

Akihiko bit his bottom lip drawing blood and gritted his teeth as he pressed the knife down at an angle, driving the tip much deeper into his chest than he knew was prudent. He grunted at the pain and felt his skin and the muscle beneath give.

The surface over his heart began weeping; the crimson slick of it ran down his the center of his encouraged the flow pressing further and the blood welled. It took all he had not to cry out.

The trail rolled down the core of him from chest to cock.

Akihiko's dick twitched at the warmth; he felt his own blood begin to drip off its tip.

Korovin was mesmerized by the sight of the blood. His eyes had been riveted from the first moment the blade had touched Akihiko's skin but now he was all but panting. In his lust, Korovin's grip on the remote had lightened. His thumb, along with other parts of him, no doubt, had lifted.

He was enraptured, completely oblivious to the figure rousing beside him.

It was only a few seconds later, but to Akihiko it seemed like an eternity, when Korovin's open-mouthed leer turned into a twisted mask.

Korovin screamed and the remote fell from his hand as it unconsciously dropped to locate the origin of the sudden excruciating pain that shot through his leg even as it crumpled beneath him.

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><p><strong>Inuyasha lover33- Sorry I missed you the last round of shout outs. Thanks for the review!<strong>

**Alcuzey- Yes, poor Jadir. Something is definitely going on with him. Yeah, I remember that movie. Brrrrrr... And faced with the realities of a sick mind like Korovin's is shocking. Glad it impacted you.**

**Jackattack456- Thanks so much. I have really been enjoying these last chapters. Usami is such a complex character, as are all the players in this fic. I will do my best to pull Jadir through this, but he's in very bad shape now. So we'll have to see. I'll do my best to keep up the pace till the end.**

**Katrinadianne- I am back. Well, I never actually left, I just went into hiding for a while. I am glad you're enjoying this story. I have to say, I have been quietly enjoying your fic "When Cherry Blossoms Fall." Nice work and looking forward to your updates as well.**

**Pheonixette101- read your profile, so cute how you misspelled your name. I like it. Gives you character. And I love your enthusiasm and your fun wording. I shall now have to add "Shamazing" to my list of new vocabulary too. (Glad you like my lemons as well...Heh)**

**Primordium- Thank you and I will do my best to keep him with us. Don't make any promises though.**

**Puppyfacetwo- It is building and as you see in the next chapter, it reached its bursting point. Sad about your dog and fire. My dachshund is that way with vacuum cleaners.**

**Suniichan- Thank you. So happy you're enjoying it. Hope you check out some of my other pennames if you haven't already.**

**Amaya Kawano- What a sweet "thank you." I am so pleased to have such an empathetic reader and that you're enjoying this piece so much. Thank you for letting me know!**

**Dragonish- I left a note for you on youtube. Not sure if I did it right. Anyway, I look forward to hearing your ideas. I appreciate reader input.**

**TBF101- My Flamingo, I love your pet name for Korovin. I also love the thought of keeping you on your toes. And yes, I have been wanting a naked Usami for a while. Korovin is not the only evil bastard out there you know... * wink.**

**Barrettachante- Thank you, Koi! I enjoy keeping you preoccupied. Not sure about literary genius, but I am having a hell of a lot of fun with this story now.**


	31. Shot

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Thirty-One: Shot**

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><p>Korovin's screams echoed through the halls as his left leg gave way and he crashed to the floor.<p>

Jadir had truly passed out earlier, but he was roused when a new wave of cramps hit him. Fighting through the pain, he had quietly pulled the scalpel from beneath his arm and made one determined swipe while Korovin stood transfixed by the sight of Akihiko's blood.

Putting all his repressed hatred into his action, despite his weakened condition, Jadir had driven the blade home, severing Korovin's Achilles' tendon.

Still shrieking in rage and pain, Korovin frantically reached out towards his traitorous pet.

Jadir quickly struck him again. This time he slashed across the top of Korovin's outstretched hand, at the base of his knuckles. Beneath the razored edge of the blade the skin parted immediately. Jets of blood shot from Korovin's hand where two of his fingers now hung loosely, all but severed by the strike.

Howling, Korovin curled into himself for just a moment. Then he lashed out with astonishing fury.

"You fucking little cunt!"

The scalpel fell from Jadir's remaining fingers as the foot of Korovin's good leg caught him square in the chest. Korovin had been aiming for his pet's stomach, but the blood-slicked floor gave him extra momentum and his body kept turning, throwing off his strike.

The kick knocked the breath from Jadir and sent him careening backwards; his prone body slid across the polished stone floor of the wide hallway and thudded into the nearby wall.

All this happened in the span of a few seconds, but that was all the time it took for Akihiko to reach back and draw forth the gun from between his shoulders.

The minute Korovin's kick threw Jadir back, away from him, Akihiko sighted and fired.

* * *

><p>Santo Justino had his black-light out once more and was moving quickly through the halls, still making marks occasionally with what was now the stub of Aikawa's lipstick.<p>

He'd pulled the light out again after finding Jadir's spermy spew. Though the traces were small, Korovin's last deposit in Jadir's battered ass, along with the occasional bit of blood, had leaked out from the boy as Akihiko had carried him through the halls.

It had led the detective to Korovin's incubator.

Santo Justino's mind was still reeling from the scene he'd encountered in Korovin's sickroom, the sight of the animal's trussed prisoners. He willed his shocked senses to stay sharp, the imperative of his mission weighing even more heavily on him now.

Outside of Korovin's sickroom, in addition to the gadgets that had occupied the pockets of Akihiko's jacket and the empty surgical tape roll that littered the floor, a large cross was now marked on the otherwise nondescript door. Santo Justino had circled it as well, hoping that it would alert anyone who followed him into this hole of the hell that lay within its walls.

It had killed the detective to leave Korovin's captives behind, but knowing that they were alive and that their continued survival depended upon their tormentor's capture spurred him on.

There had been a number of blood spots on the floor outside this new chamber of horrors as well. Now Santo Justino, once again, thought of Hansel and Gretel as his keen eyes followed the path of his black-light, discerning Jadir's fresh trail from spots left by older fluids.

He stopped short however, when the sound of a man's anguished scream ripped through the still hallways.

Dropping both the light and Aikawa's lipstick, Santo Justino gripped his gun with both hands, holding it out ahead of him.

Another banshee like shriek pealed, sounding more animal than human. Enraged cursing followed and Santo Justino realized he was close enough to discern the words.

He picked up his pace, moving quickly but still warily in the direction of the noise. When he heard the gunshot, he threw caution aside and broke into a run.

* * *

><p>Aikawa had been filled with an almost unbearable terror once she'd descended the stairs and began to more fully understand the true depths of Korovin's bunker.<p>

The spell of this had been broken however, when her frantic eyes had alighted unexpectedly on a small cross drawn on the wall. Moving over to it, Aikawa traced the cross with a slender finger. She studied the oily pigment on her fingertip.

Color filled her cheeks as she recognized the color as her Revlon "Keep Blushing" pink.

_I must have forgotten it this morning and Augusto found it._

For a moment her fear melted in the warmth that flooded her chest. Filled with this and a new sense of purpose, Aikawa began to make her way cautiously down the halls.

The crosses lead her eventually to Akihiko's discarded duffel. Here she pulled out a taser from the rather frightening contents of the bag. She had seen one used in a demonstration at a crime convention where one of her forensic mystery author's had been asked to be a guest speaker.

Aikawa set out once more, feeling far more secure now that she had a weapon. She kept her eyes peeled for Augusto's signs. Her strained senses buzzed, hyper-alert, for any sign of trouble.

Using Santo Justino's marks helped her slip quickly through the mazed hallways of the bunker.

Her attention was suddenly caught as she noted the next cross ahead of her. She stopped in wonder, looking at the door. Augusto's sign was so much bigger here and circled too.

Glancing around her, she noted another small cross down at the end of the hall from where she stood: so it was obvious that Augusto had moved on. Still, the strangeness of this mark in contrast to all its brothers roused her curiosity. Aikawa stretched her hand out and her fingers gripped the cool, slick knob of the door.

Just as she heard the latch slip and had begun to pull it open, her attentive ears caught another sound.

It sounded far away, but there was no doubt it was a man screaming.

Aikawa's hand left the door and she turned facing the direction of the tormented sounds. All thoughts of the significance of Augusto's strange mark evaporated when she heard the gunshot.

_Usami-sensi? Augusto? _

Aikawa's bare feet pattered against the polished cement as she flew down the hall to find out.

* * *

><p>Korovin howled again as his right kneecap was shattered by the bullet from Akihiko's gun.<p>

Though he had inflicted immeasurable pain over the course of his life, the man had never felt anything that compared to this himself.

"You stupid Jap Fuck!"

Korovin was frothing at the mouth in anger. He gasped in between screams. He could feel his precious blood leaving him and his body slipping into shock. His world was glowing black around the edges. But despite his supreme desire to lose himself and escape the indescribable pain in his legs he willed himself to stay conscious.

Looking up through blurring eyes, Korovin saw Usami above him. The sight filled him with a new rage and he drew on this energy for strength.

"If you're going to kill me, fucking learn to aim!"

Akihiko barked out a bitter laugh, just before he drove his bare foot into Korovin's back. He was mindful of staying upright on the slick floor, but ignored the crack and the sudden flare of pain that alerted him to the fact he'd just broken a few toes with the force of his kick.

Mindless of his now injured foot, Akihiko lurched after Korovin as his kick sped the man's body towards Jadir. He stopped Korovin's trajectory, grabbing the Doc's now blood-black labcoat and pulling Korovin away from from the gasping boy.

He rolled Korovin onto his back and sat down on the already breathless killer's stomach. Korovin's arms were pinned to his sides between Akihiko's lean calves.

Korovin bucked up wildly beneath Usami until the author delivered a slap to his face so hard it rattled teeth. Akihiko leaned down his face inches away from Korovin's. He pushed the barrel of his gun up into the flesh beneath Korovin's jaw hard enough to bruise.

"Do you think I wasn't aiming?" Akihiko's voice burned as cold as his eyes did hot. "There is no way in hell I am letting you get off so easily as a merciful single-shot death! Not after all the suffering you've caused!"

Korovin's pain-glazed eyes flashed with surprise. Just as quickly however, he recovered himself. A sick grin twisted his mouth.

"Ah, the rabbit hole's avenging angel. Too bad Takahashi will never know the pains you went through."

Akihiko's eyes widened. He shoved the gun up harder into Korovin's jaw tipping the man's head back, stretching his long neck taut. "What do you mean?" Akihiko was gritting his teeth so tightly he could hardly get his words out.

The grin on Korovin's face widened, despite the fact his neck was tipped so tight as to make smiling painful. He had Usami's attention now. He let out a deranged sounding cackle, but even as he did this, his still functional hand pressed to his side slipped into his pocket, fumbling for one of the hypodermics he'd cached there.

Korovin couldn't tell by feel which one was which, but it didn't matter: each one carried its own serious consequences. His agile fingers fumbled to flick off one of the needles' caps.

He knew he was playing a dangerous game here; Usami was pushed to the edge as it was. Still he pressed further. His words were hissed through his pain-clenched jaw.

"I told you that you'd pay for that stunt with the cameras. Do you honestly think I'd come looking for you and leave Takahashi behind… alive? I pressed the trigger before I ever left the playroom, Usami. You put that whole hero's show on for me for nothing."

Korovin's words hit Akihiko like a blow. He rocked back, blinking. The pressure of the gun against Korovin's jaw lessened ever so slightly. Akihiko had known this was a possibility, but he'd denied it. He felt his chest collapse in on itself that this could be the truth.

His blood-slicked fingers shook against the grip of the gun; he pressed the barrel forward again.

"You're lying!"

"Am I?" Korovin had slipped into the numbness of shock. He knew he didn't have long before bloodloss became a dire issue. He narrowed his eyes at Usami, they glittered pain-bright and mad.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I didn't kill him. Maybe, before I found you, I took your boy and secreted him away down here where you'll never find him… Especially, if I'm not around to tell you where he is."

"You fucking bastard!" Akihiko could hardly breathe; he had never felt such fury in his life. His finger tightened on the trigger.

"Usami!"

"Usami!"

Santo Justino had rounded the corner and found himself in the midst of a scene of terrible carnage. Usami was naked; straddling a man who the detective could only assume was Korovin. Korovin lay in his back in a widening pool of blood. The rest of the floor in this narrow hallway looked like an abattoir.

He noticed a young man lying off to the side… not Takahashi. The youth looked as though he might be dead or was close to it.

Despite his own desire to kill Korovin, after what he'd learned about the man from Alvarez and what he'd seen in the sickroom, Santo Justino knew he needed to try and take Korovin alive. There was much that this madman needed to answer to. There were mysteries that would go unsolved if he died.

It was for this reason that he called out. Though he never expected this action to have the consequence that it did.

Akihiko was so locked into his rage he did not hear Santo Justino call him the first time. The second time the detective shouted however, his ears caught his name. Akihiko looked up, shocked to hear himself addressed, especially by so familiar a voice. He had truly thought himself alone in his mission, not expecting anyone else to breach Korovin's lair for at least another twenty-four hours.

This sudden distraction was all Korovin needed.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to retain consciousness much longer, he summoned all his remaining reserves and bucked upwards, hard.

Akihiko suddenly found himself thrown off balance. The knee his weight was cast on, slipped on the bloody floor. At this same time, Korovin puled his ruined hand out from his side and smashed it against Usami's gun hand. The Doc howled in anguish as the new pain of this impact rocked his flesh.

The gun fired with a deafening blast just to the side of Korovin's head before it flew from Akihiko's grip.

Akihiko lurched forward to re-claim his weapon just in time to feel a sharp stab to his thigh. He looked down to see a hypodermic deeply embedded in the lean muscle there. The syringe was empty, the plunger depressed to the needle's base.

Suddenly Akihiko's heart began to beat madly. A flush of fear like he'd never known twisted his bowels and a cold sweat broke out over the surface of his entire body.

A wave of dizziness swept over Akihiko. He could hear Santo Justino calling his name again, but it sounded like it was coming from a great distance. Akihiko tried to push himself up, to stand, but instead he fell back, his limbs suddenly weighted and useless.

A strangled cry rose in his throat but caught there and died unarticulated; his tearing eyes fixed on Korovin. He watched in horror as the man reached frantically beside him, not for the gun but for the remote.

Akihiko found his eyes wouldn't blink. His gaze locked with Korovin's. He felt his thundering heart stop as Korovin grinned wickedly back at him as he depressed the trigger.

_MISAKI!_

Misaki was alive, or at least he had been.

Akihiko's stifled roar of anguish tremored his entire body. His stiff frame spasmed and collapsed.

_MISAKI!_

His lover's name was the last thought he had, before Akihiko's world suddenly went black.

* * *

><p><strong>So I think there's only two chapter's left here guys and then the epilogue. I am leaving on a trip Thursday and don't know what sort of internet I'll have access to, but I will work on the story while I am gone.<br>**

**Jadynp, JokulJackFrosti, Kinkylittlewolf, Keyblade Master13, Sasunaru067, Semberthemushroom,** **thank you for the follows and favorites.**

**Dragonish, your wish is my command.**

**Vegeta42, you have quite a cute scoff. But you see, I love to leave my readers hanging, naughty hound that I am.**

**Gothpandaoyaku, where have you been? I have been missing you and your reviews. Thank you sweetheart. And don't worry, I am not through with Korovin yet.**

**Kinkylittlewolf, I am glad you're enjoying the story but so sorry to hear about your friend. I am glad that he/she has you as a confidante for his/her terrible experiences. It is our secrets that keep us trapped in our wounds or make us sick. Please know that I do not condone any of the actions of abuse that occur in my stories and that I know only too well that such terrors unfortunately do not only live in the worlds of fiction. My dark works are part of my own exorcism process and I do not take what I write lightly. I will send all the positive energy I can to your friend for his/her strength and healing.**

**Sana Lama Samah, Thank you for the review. Yes, I am terrible. So, Aikawa did not find the bodies or Korovin's prisoners, but I'm sure she's already seen enough to keep her in nightmares for months.**

**Pheonixette101, you no longer have to stare, here's the next chapter. Loved your cries for blood P101. Yeah, Korovin is a bastard. If you want to see more of him, The Black Flamingo 101 borrowed him for her fic "Digamma." It's another great action/adventure JR Ff.**

**Guest, well whatever the circumstances, a naked Akihiko is sexy. That's all there is to it.**

**SilentStare, so good to hear from you. Yes Korovin will suffer more. Heh.**

**Alcuzey, Taniz Yami, Primordium, Not You (guest), you guys make a great cheering section!**

**Puppyfacetwo, now Santo Justino has found Akihiko and you can see the damage done to Korovin, though he's done some more damage, himself.**

** Sarah, so to answer your question, Jadir is having a complication with his uke flu pregnancy. He is at six months, just starting his final trimester. So you read it correctly. Korovin was chastising Jadir that he might lose the baby, rather than carry it to term.**

**TBF101, Things have exploded, but it might not have been the bang you expected. Heh. Thank you for the wonderful review! Loved it as always. Yes, I am very happy with Aikawa too.**

**Slythclover, Thank you for going to all those lengths to review. Yes the climax is upon us. If I am lucky, I will get caught up on my reading and reviewing this trip. Take care!**


	32. Howl

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Thirty Two: Howl**

* * *

><p>Santo Justino lunged forward the instant Korovin charged Akihiko.<p>

He wanted desperately to take a shot, but Usami was in the way, so he didn't have a clear hit. Even if he did, Santo Justino had already determined he needed to do everything in his power to take Korovin alive and the killer was obviously already severely wounded.

The detective's heart stopped when Usami toppled over.

He saw the hypodermic in Usami's thigh that seemed to have come out of nowhere and Korovin's cruel grin as the man grasped and deployed what was obviously some type of remote detonator. Santo Justino automatically dropped lower, shoulders hunched; expecting some sort of explosion. But there was no blast, no notable change in the environment he could discern.

_Perhaps the device stalled or mis-fired somehow._

Regardless, Santo Justino was not taking any chances; he stepped closer, target locked now. He dared not look at Usami.

"Drop it, Korovin!"

He saw the animal's eyes shift his direction. Despite the man's obvious pain there was still a malignant glint in Korovin's gaze. Korovin glanced at the remote in his hand and snorted lightly. He tossed the device aside with no further thought: it had served its purpose.

"And who might you be?" Korovin's voice was low and raspy but it still retained its arrogant tone. "I'm shocked Usami didn't bother to tell me he had reinforcements during our negotiations... But then, from the look on his face, it's obvious that he didn't know any more than I."

Despite his attempt at bravado, it was obvious Korovin was waning. His last action had used most of his reserves, but even so, he was not one to easily fold.

"Hands up where I can see them!" Santo Justino ignored the question as he stepped cautiously forward. His thick-soled boots offered him much better traction on the blood-soaked cement than it had Usami's bare skin.

"So rude… Since you seem to know who I am…"

Korovin raised his hands; they trembled from shock and blood loss. He wasn't too worried about this new stranger killing him, however: if he'd wanted him dead, he would have already shot.

Korovin watched with heavy lidded eyes as the interloper moved over and pulled Usami off to the side before bending down.

Keeping his gun trained on Korovin with his right hand, Santo Justino reached down with his left. While his eyes never left Korovin, his fingers pressed against the side of Usami's neck. Immediately he was able to feel a pulse: Usami's heart was beating hard, but the rhythm was strong and regular.

"Who I am is of no concern." Feeling re-assured that Usami was not dead, _yet_, Santo Justino stood again. "Just know I am the one who is ending your madness."

"Over, onto your stomach!"

Over his flickering eyes, one of Korovin's neat brows rose. "Seriously? I am near death here."

"Then lay there as you are and bleed out. Otherwise, on your fucking stomach!"

Korovin assessed the man holding the gun on him. He was mildly curious that the gunman knew his real name. He could tell the newcomer was serious, though it would obviously not be his first choice to lose his prize.

Korovin thought of the hospitals and jail cells in his future, if his radar for law enforcement personnel had not been compromised by blood loss.

_Not so bad a fate; at least until I get myself back together._ _Things could be worse._

Men had tried to detain him in the past, but with his intelligence and cunning ruthlessness, Korovin had never found anyone or any place able to really keep him under wraps for long.

His thoughts flashed to his latest project, all his infected boys. If this new guard dog for justice was successful, his toys would no doubt be rescued. His mind was suddenly filled with all the havoc such an action would wreak on an unsuspecting world.

_So many new games suddenly set afoot. _

The main thing now was to survive this somehow, so that he could watch them play out.

With this thought, Korovin sighed in a way that was likely to be perceived as weary by his new captor, though in truth it held far more satisfaction in it. Grunting in pain as his movement jarred every one of his wounds, Korovin made to comply.

Halfway through his roll, he felt a hard hand between his shoulder blades pushing him down. Korovin growled as this same rough paw grabbed the collar of his lab coat and pulled it harshly from his shoulders. He bellowed in rage and pain when his dangling fingers caught in the sleeve and were pulled, as the jacket was stripped off of him.

Santo Justino had holstered his gun and was now patting Korovin down; careful of any other nasty surprises the man might have on his person. He pulled Korovin's hands behind his back and once he felt confident his captive was not going to fight him, he tore a sleeve from Korovin's lab coat and then quickly bound the killer's damaged hand to slow the bleeding.

Korovin shrieked in pain and fury at this crude attendance. In response to this he felt his head pushed down, his mouth mashed against a floor sticky with his own blood. A hard knee ground into the small of his back.

Wasting no more time, Santo Justino reached into his own coat pocket. He pulled out one of the plastic slip-ties he favored over the old-school, metal cuffs and quickly bound Korovin's hands.

Once assured Korovin was secured, he tore two more strips from the lab coat and used these as tourniquets on the leg wounds before throwing the remnants of the garment off to the side.

Satisfied that Korovin was clean and not going anywhere, Santo Justino stood. In an act of caution, he moved over and picked up Usami's lost gun. Then he hauled Korovin up and placed the man with his back against the farthest wall.

It was now the detective allowed himself to turn back to Usami. He saw to his great relief that though still unconscious, the author continued to breathe.

The syringe was quickly pulled from Usami's thigh. Santo Justino pressed the needle against the floor until it snapped. He then pocketed the syringe, hoping that there would enough trace fluid in the cylinder for a lab to run tests on.

He did a quick pat down of Usami now as well, and found no more weapons, no broken bones either. The only real wound the man sported was a gash to his chest and while this was still weeping, Usami was in no danger of bleeding to death.

After making sure that Usami was positioned in a way that least obstructed his airway, Santo Justino reluctantly left him, knowing there was little more he could do for the author at this point.

The detective's eyes then traveled over to the other body in the hallway.

Large, haunted eyes met his and Santo Justino felt himself pierced to the very core of his soul.

Jadir had lain silent this whole time, watching the events unfold before him. The boy had been hovering on the edge of consciousness, slipping back and forth between states of terrible clarity and dark blankness. He had been awake, however, to see Korovin press the trigger of the remote; he had witnessed the expression in Usami's eyes too.

In the wake of this, Jadir's sorrow had all but immobilized him, until something in him recognized that this newcomer was now stepping towards him.

He saw the unguarded horror and pity in the approaching man's expression and knew that this was the look he'd receive from anyone who encountered him now as he was. A new pain suddenly flared amidst all of the others vying for voice in his body and Jadir closed his eyes against it.

While he couldn't bring himself to move, Jadir longed to press himself closer to the wall, to simply, suddenly disappear.

A moment later he felt a tender hand on his head.

Having drawn closer, Santo Justino was appalled by the extent of the damage done to the poor creature before him. He had seen many terrible things in his life, but never had he seen another human being so reduced.

He was completely at a loss for how to react to the situation he found himself in. This boy too needed immediate medical attention.

Santo Justino felt the urge to bludgeon Korovin to death rise up in him. Instead of doing this however, he softly stroked the sweaty, matted head beneath his tentative hand.

"Hold on there, son. I'm not going to hurt you. _No one_ is going to hurt you now."

Santo Justino had no way of knowing the damage his unguarded gaze had already wrought on the youth under his hand.

Jadir could not speak. He shuddered at the pain and the kindness in the new voice that filled his ears.

"My name is Augusto, Augusto Santo-Justino."

Santo Justino's tongue had never felt so cumbersome. Looking down, he suddenly noticed the quaking youth's missing arm, his absent digits. Santo Justino's mind flashed to the "almost" empty body bag in Korovin's freezer.

"Jadir…" The name was uttered as a whispered prayer. Beneath his hand the teen's trembling ceased.

Jadir kept his eyes closed. He could feel his tears slip out from between his clenched lids at the sound of his name. He nodded.

Santo Justino felt his heart overwhelmed with another rush of emotion. Before he could utter another word however, he was jolted by a sharp shriek. Turning, the detective saw with amazed eyes that somehow Aikawa had stumbled into this chaotic scene.

Aikawa had not meant to cry out, but the sight of the all the blood and Usami-sensei lying, unmoving on his side, had been more than her already overtaxed senses could bear.

"Eri!" Santo Justino stood up from where he had been kneeling.

He was sorry for his new lover to have been subjected to the sight of such violence, but at the same time he felt immensely relieved, having no idea of how he was going to tend to all three of the wounded now under his charge.

Aikawa's eyes shone wild with relief at the sight of Santo Justino unharmed, but only for an instant. She immediately darted to her fallen author, giving Korovin wide berth in the process.

"Usami-sensei!"

Any discomfort Aikawa might have felt at seeing the Lord Usami bared as he was went unheeded. She fell to her knees beside him, eyes filling with tears.

"Eri."

Aikawa's long fingers swept over Akihiko's cheek. She was oblivious to Santo Justino calling her name until he gently took hold of her shoulder. Her dark eyes locked with his.

"Is he...?"

"Dead? No… At least not yet. Just unconscious, I think. The wound on his chest seems to be the worst of it. He'll need stitches, I imagine, but it's not too serious."

Santo Justino purposefully held back from mentioning the injection. There was little they could do about it in their present situation and he needed Aikawa to be as present as possible.

"Misaki?"

Santo Justino shook his head sadly at the question contained in the utterance of the missing boy's name. The body bag designated for Takahashi Misaki had been empty and he'd not seen the face among Korovin's hostages he'd come to know so well from the countless hours spent studying Usami's photographs.

"Eri…"

Aikawa was looking down at Akihiko again; she was silently shaking. Santo Justino reached down, took a hold of her shoulders, and lifted her up. He turned the sobbing woman towards him.

Burying her head in Santo Justino's shoulder, Aikawa came undone momentarily. Santo Justino gathered her in. While his embrace was tender, over Aikawa's shoulder his sharp eyes were fixed on Korovin.

Korovin offered Santo Justino a wicked grin before closing his eyes.

The Doc was tickled by the dramatics playing out before him. If he'd had more energy he would have offered a few choice comments about the "touching" scene; but at present he was more concerned with staying alive and so, was concentrating on slowing down all his internal processes in an attempt to preserve himself.

After allowing Aikawa a minute for her tears and inarticulate sobs about "guards" and "dogs" and "crosses," Santo Justino drew back. He tightened his grip on Aikawa with one arm while his free hand caught her chin and lifted it.

"Eri…"

Aikawa looked up and a broad thumb wiped across her cheek, brushing away her tears. She closed her eyes and felt gentle lips brush across her own trembling mouth. She drew strength from the touch and her gaze was clearer when she opened her eyes again the next time her name was called.

Santo Justino saw Aikawa returning to him and he was grateful for her strength.

"Eri, I need you."

Through the last of her tears, Aikawa nodded. She drew a deep breath and stepped back, wiping her damp eyes on a torn sleeve.

"All three of these men need care." Santo Justino watched as Aikawa's gaze flickered over to Korovin and a frown creased her fine features. Rather than explain, the detective nodded over to Jadir.

"We need to get Jadir medical attention immediately. He has some kind of stomach wound. I want you to help me bind it."

Aikawa's eyes widened when she really looked at Jadir for the first time. She bit back a gasp at his severely battered state and was hard pressed not to breakdown again. Rather than succumb to her emotions this time, however, she nodded numbly.

"Get that shirt over there. We can wrap him with that and then cover him with that jacket. I'm sure he's in shock and as bad as he is…"

Aikawa didn't wait for Santo Justino to finish his sentence. She had always been one for getting things done and having a task was a blessed distraction. Tucking the Taser into the band of her skirt, she quickly moved over and gathered the garments.

She also picked up the knife Akihiko had dropped and used it to make fast work of the shirt, quickly rending it into strips.

Santo Justino carefully moved Jadir; the boy had slipped out of consciousness again. He held him upright as Aikawa wrapped the teen's weeping belly.

Throughout this process, the detective's eyes made constant sweeps of the other two men in the hallway. Usami's breathing was shallow but regular. Korovin seemed to have lost consciousness now and there was an uncomfortable length of time between the man's breaths.

Santo Justino's eyes were drawn back to Usami as the author uttered a low moan and his body suddenly shifted.

Aikawa heard the noise too. She quickly tied off the last of her wrapping and flew over to Akihiko's side, leaving Santo Justino to wrap Jadir in the jacket.

"Usami-sensei!"

Setting her hand on Akihiko's forehead, Aikawa pushed damp hair back from a clammy brow. She held her breath as pale eyes fluttered open.

Akihiko groaned again. His gaze was initially dull and glazed, but after a blinking a few times, he seemed to be coming back to himself.

He drew a bloody hand to his temples and gripped them, the pain in his head was astounding.

Starting, when he felt another hand gently placed atop his own, Akihiko raised his eyes. His brow creased when he was met with Aikawa's worried gaze.

Closing his eyes again, Akihiko growled. Every joint in his body ached furiously; his chest was tight, throat raw. He wondered if he'd passed out, overworking himself on yet another deadline.

_Leave it to Aikawa-san to hunt me down._

Despite his body's furious protests, Akihiko rolled himself over onto his side. He grunted feeling the sticky floor beneath his hand.

_Did I spill something? Damn, I need to get some more of those shatterproof glasses._

All thoughts of tableware left Akihiko's tumbled mind when he opened his eyes again and the dark floor beneath him came into focus.

"What the…?"

His eyes widened when Akihiko understood what it was he was looking at. He tried to jump up when he realized that both he and the floor were covered with blood, but his pained limbs wouldn't support him.

_Did I cut myself when I fell?_

"Usami-sensei, please be still."

Akihiko turned his head back towards Aikawa's strained soothing. This time he truly saw her when their eyes met. He had never seen the woman looking so disheveled. Akihiko was filled with confusion.

Hearing a noise to the side of him, he strained his neck and his dazed eyes fell on Santo Justino, standing, studying him with grave concern. Jadir was resting, cradled in the detective's arms.

At this sight, the floodgates of Akihiko's memory suddenly loosed and a howl welled in his throat as the loss of his beloved Misaki returned to him afresh. Tears welled in his eyes and he closed them against the flood. He threw back his head and roared.

Aikawa was stunned, never in her life had she known Akihiko Usami to show this level of emotion. She sought to restrain him with frantic hands as her eyes sought Santo Justino's.

"Usami-sensei!"

Akihiko curled in on himself, he felt as if his heart might implode.

"Are you hurt? Please, Sensei. You need to tell me what's wrong!"

Aikawa could never know how devastating the wound was that Akihiko had suffered.

"MISAKI!"

Misaki's name was almost unrecognizable in Akihiko's primal cry of pain. Once she recognized what it was that Usami was saying, Aikawa did her best to calm him.

"Sensei, we're so close. I know that we'll find him!"

Aikawa's words somehow reached the remaining fragment of Akihiko's rational mind. At the same time he opened his eyes and his gaze fell on Korovin. His cries, it seemed, had roused the killer from his self-induced stasis.

Korovin's cloudy eyes flickered and the side of his mouth quirked: even if he did die, going out, having seen this level of pain in Usami would make a pleasant exit.

Like a lid snapping shut, the moment their gazes connected, Akihiko fell silent. He laid still, his lean sides heaving.

_Even if he's dead, I have to find my Misaki._

Aikawa found this new silence more disconcerting than her sensei's previous outburst.

"Usami-sensei… Akihiko…" she begged. She feared he had slipped into a catatonic state.

However, ignoring Aikawa's pleas, Akihiko slowly twisted his head. His pale eyes met Jadir's dark gaze and they exchanged a silent communion.

Jadir's eyes were filed with tears. He nodded before closing them. A shudder shivered his tortured frame and this grew into a much more obvious tremor.

Santo Justino felt this and shifted his grip on the boy in his arms. His sober face grew even graver when Jadir began to twitch much more violently.

"Eri, come help me!"

Santo Justino lowered Jadir once more, the boy seemed to be having a fit of some sort and he didn't want to risk dropping him. Reluctantly, Aikawa pulled herself away from Akihiko. Casting her eyes back and seeing Usami remaining still and silent she hurried over and knelt next to Jadir.

"Rest his head on your legs. Keep an eye on his airway; don't try and restrain him though if he begins to thrash."

Aikawa did as Augusto directed. Jadir's dark head tipped back and his chest rose as a convulsion wracked his thin body. Santo Justino knelt at Jadir's feet; he held the teen's ankles lightly and spoke soothingly in Portuguese.

Akihiko's pale eyes watched intently: both Aikawa and Santo Justino were completely occupied now by Jadir's throes.

He rolled on to his hands and knees and wavered there unnoticed. Every muscle in his body screamed in revolt, but Akihiko was beyond listening.

Taking another moment to gather himself, he chanced a look behind him. He saw that Korovin's bleary gaze too was caught by Jadir's fit.

_You took my Misaki from me… you stole my world._

Bowing his head, Akihiko called on every force he could think of for his next action, every ancestor, every God.

Gritting his teeth against his own tremoring flesh, Akihiko slid silently forward. His hand found his knife on the floor in front of him, caught in the remaining tatters of his shirt. Gripping the hilt of the blade like a lifeline, Akihiko turned and lunged at Korovin.

Korovin's eyes caught the movement, but before he could utter a sound, Usami was on him.

Akihiko gripped Korovin's bloody collar. He straddled the killer's damaged legs and leaned forward. His mouth all but brushed the edge of Korovin's ear.

"Heart or cock, Korovin? Where will you feel the pain the most clearly?" Akihiko's throat was so raw from his earlier howl he could barely whisper the question that had been asked of himself just such a short time before.

Korovin's eyes widened at the query, his mouth dropped open in shock at Usami's next words.

"There's no choice here for you either, really…" Akihiko rasped into Korovin's ear. "You'd have to have a heart, after all, to make it a fair game."

Akihiko slid back on Korovin's legs.

A new and horrible howl of anguish echoed throughout the winding halls, as in one fluid motion, Akihiko raised the knife and drove it downward into Korovin's groin until he felt the blade's strike hit and bounce up off the cement. He pulled its razored edge forward, towards him, and watched new blood blossom from Korovin's ruin.

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><p><strong>My dear readers, thank you so much for all the reviews, favorites and follows. I was stunned to receive twenty two reviews following my last posting. Your comments and feedback have really kept me moving forward on this fic. I am working on the next and <span>final<span> chapter now. (It looks to be a long one.) Then will be the sweet Epilogue you have all been waiting for!**

**I will once again post AN comments post-chapter. A special shout out now to Jackattack456, however, for being the 500th reviewer on this story.** **Hey, Jack, let me know what you'd like to see updated after this fic is finished and I will do so for you as a present.**

**Hope to be posting the last chapter in a few days... making good use of my vacation time. Heh (So what if my family thinks me antisocial). Keep your eyes out for it. **

**Look forward to hearing from you!**


	33. Missions

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Missions**

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><p>Within the play room, Misaki was in a state of anguish. He was denied any further knowledge of the events taking place outside, as the rotating feed had moved on and not returned to either Korovin or Usagi.<p>

Misaki fought to hold back the wails that tore from his throat but he couldn't seem to make himself stop. He was so terrified for Usagi-san, knowing all too well the pain Korovin would unleash on his lover.

_Please, please stop. I need to think. _

Finally, with a choked sob, Misaki managed to quiet himself. He laid back on the lumpy mattress. Blood dripped down his arm where he'd caught the I.V. against the restraining cuff earlier.

Misaki lifted his head, craning his neck as his tear-blurred gaze sought the computer screen again. His eyes followed the camera's rotation desperate for information. Every pause seemed to last for hours.

He growled in frustration and kicked out at the laptop, despite the jarring pain this caused his cast leg. He listened with a sense of satisfaction as it fell off the bed clattered to the floor.

_I hope it's broken._

Misaki felt his cheeks grow hot at this childish thought.

_Stupid, how could you ever think that you could help Usagi-san? _

He cast his eyes down in shame, only to see the computer unbroken, winking back up at him. Misaki felt his humiliation increase.

_I'm so worthless; I can't even do that right._

Then his eyes caught the flickering screen. The heat that had previously filled him evaporated and a chill shook his entire frame: Usagi-san and Korovin had met. They were standing in a wide section of hallway, a junction for several corridors.

As his frantic eyes searched the screen, Misaki saw Jadir lying in a crumpled heap off to the side. He felt his breath catch in his battered throat as the camera feed shifted. Fortunately, it was another digital sentry at the same site.

Misaki wondered how long he had before all the feeds from this area were rotated through and this window was lost to him. Anxiously, he studied the screen while he could, looking for anything that would give him further insight into what was happening.

He could see clearly from the distance between the two men and their rigid postures that Usagi-san and Korovin were currently in some sort of standoff.

The metal cuffs overhead rattled as Misaki pulled against them trying to raise himself up to see the screen more clearly. He could feel his weakened limbs tremble from the strain.

He drew a deep breath. His fear for Usagi-san threatened to overwhelm him once more. Though he knew it was terrible for him to not have more faith in Usagi-san, Misaki didn't believe for one instant the gentle, reclusive author he loved would be any match for his captor. Not after he'd experienced what Korovin was capable of.

Misaki blinked through his tears, fighting to keep his eyes open, not wanting his blurring vision to obscure a moment of seeing his beloved Rabbit.

_He came all this way for me. Usagi-san didn't forget me._

Misaki felt new tears well at this thought.

_I can't let Korovin win. _

_I have to do something… Anything… Usagi came for me… After all these months of praying and wishing and hoping so desperately? _

_Will I dishonor Usagi-san's effort by just lying here and waiting for Korovin to return after he's killed him? Or done worse?_

Misaki shook his head slowly in response to his internal voice.

"No."

The word came as little more than a whisper from his bruised throat. But just allowing himself to utter it, something within Misaki shifted and broke free.

"No."

Misaki repeated the word again a little more loudly this time. He tasted the sweetness of revolt as the single syllable tripped off his tongue.

Misaki drew another deep breath. Korovin was no longer in the room. He was out there, and so was Usagi-san. Usagi-san… The man who had somehow found him and entered hell to retrieve him.

_I belong by his side._

He had no sooner had this thought, than Misaki's eyes widened in horror at the events unfolding before him on the screen. He saw Usagi-san uncuff his sleeve, revealing a small sheathed knife. His heart clenched as he watched the weapon be unstrapped and thrown off to the side.

The sick feeling that had taken root in his gut constricted tighter as Misaki saw his Usagi-san not stopping with the knife, but beginning to unbutton his shirt as well. He gasped as the camera showed his lover from the front, Usagi-san's head bowed; the black garment falling from his pale, broad shoulders.

The feed switched and Misaki suddenly found himself confronted with another empty hallway.

"NOOOOOO!"

There was a new sound in this word as Misaki tipped his head back and howled, unmindful of the pain in his already torn throat: in addition to anguish, there was anger.

Misaki had no doubt that Korovin had forced Usagi-san into some terrible bargain. He knew only too well the man's manipulations. He could not stand to see Usagi-san compromised in such a way. Misaki's emotions in this moved him well beyond the realms of any rational thought.

Not caring about the impossibility or ridiculousness of his actions anymore, Misaki understood only one thing in this moment.

_I have to get to Usagi-san._

Turning his eyes once more to the cuffs that held him, Misaki heaved himself up once more. Though his arms trembled, fueled by his resolve he found new strength and managed to lift himself up higher in the bed.

He cursed and gritted his teeth as the cuff bumped the I.V. in his left hand again. Misaki growled as he managed to move his right hand close enough to the left to pull off the tape covering the needle. He then began to pull the I.V. itself out.

Arms bent at their awkward angles, Misaki clenched his bruised jaw. The feed scraped his vein as he withdrew it. His hand was soon slick with blood; it ran freely down his arm as the long needle emerged from his flesh.

As soon as it was free, Misaki allowed it to fall to the side. He studied his left hand for only a moment before a weak smile quirked his mouth. If his thought was correct, there would be a terrible, sweet irony in his next step.

The smile fell from Misaki's mouth and a grim line replaced it. Misaki closed his eyes and pulled his left hand against the cuff with all the strength that he had.

He felt the cuff bite into the base of his hand; the ball of his thumb compressed against his palm as he struggled against the cuff. Korovin had not locked the cuff as tight as he could have, but even so, Misaki felt the skin at his wrists scrape and tear.

Despite the pain Misaki persisted. The blood from this joined that from the I.V.; the fluid served as a lubricant. He could feel his hand slipping incrementally down through the cuff. The pinch of it made him want to scream, but he couldn't allow himself to exert his energy in any other action but the pull.

Misaki wondered if the bones in his hand would be cracked after this.

Opening his eyes, Misaki saw he'd reached the critical juncture at last. He allowed himself a pained whimper as he shifted his hand in the impossibly tight space of the cuff.

_Just a little bit more._

A broken laugh escaped him as he angled his palm where his little finger was missing and gave one final determined jerk and saw that this space created by his lost digit gave him the advantage he needed.

His left hand slid free of the cuff.

Misaki clenched and unclenched his shaking hand. He felt a new surge of adrenaline course through his system at this small victory.

_So much more to do…_

Still he was buoyed by this success.

Not wanting to waste another moment, he stretched his free hand out and caught the IV stand next to the edge of the bed.

Though he was weak, Misaki was able to use this to catch and draw the small table that stood next to the bed, closer. He was filled with terror throughout this maneuver that he'd pull the table over, but somehow he was able to keep it upright.

Bloody fingers pulled open the drawer in the table's face. Misaki tried not to cringe as his hand moved over some of the more torturous devices Korovin kept handy there for his "play dates." At last he felt what he was looking for.

Misaki pulled out the key for the cuffs. His fingers were trembling so strongly from fear and excitement that he dropped the key twice and had to search for it amongst the stained bedclothes before he was able to free his right hand.

Finally fully released, Misaki shifted himself to the edge of the bed. His legs pained him immensely with every movement.

Looking down, the floor had never seemed so far away.

Tears filled Misaki's eyes as he lowered his legs. He braced himself for the jolt, but even so, a sob was jarred from his lean frame the moment they made contact with the floor. Misaki bit his bottom lip, tasting blood as he pushed himself forward.

He fell to the floor.

Misaki had to lay there a moment to regain the breath that the pain in his battered body had stolen from him. He felt the matted rug beneath him; he could smell trapped into its fibers the countless fluids leaked by Korovin and his victims. Repulsed by this Misaki pulled himself forward across it surface, seeking the solace of the tiled floor beyond.

His arms could not support him, so he crawled forward on his forearms, propelled by his elbows, his broken legs dragging behind him.

When he reached the tile, Misaki shifted his vision to the cement floor that lay beyond in the hallway. Korovin, in his flight, had mercifully not bothered to close the door. He'd no doubt been confident that his Takahashi toy could not and would not escape him.

Misaki crawled into the hall and collapsed.

The cold polished stone pressed beneath his naked, fevered flesh soothed him. Misaki felt his eyelids flutter with exhaustion. Thoughts of Usagi-san's chilled, infinitely loving touch filled his flickering consciousness.

* * *

><p>Aikawa and Santo Justino were jolted by the sound of Korovin's bloodcurdling screech. Below them, Jadir's fit immediately ceased.<p>

Santo Justino noticed this immediately and his eyes caught Jadir's for just the merest of moments before he propelled himself up and at Usami. Jadir's dark gaze was unreadable as he turned away from the detective's accusatory gaze.

"God damn it, Usami!"

Santo Justino tackled Akihiko, knocking him away from Korovin.

Korovin had suddenly stopped shrieking: he'd passed out either from pain or blood loss or both.

The knife remained embedded in Korovin's flesh, it had punctured through the killer's cock and his scrotum, tearing through both, though it now was caught in the shaft of Korovin's split dick at the base of its head.

"What the hell are you doing? We need him alive!"

Weakened by whatever it was he'd been injected with, Akihiko was no match for the enraged detective. Santo Justino shoved Akihiko back against a wall as he pushed up off him. His gun was trained on Usami in an instant.

Aikawa had left Jadir now as well. She drew up behind Santo Justino and grabbed one of his sleeves to restrain him.

"Augusto!"

Santo Justino jerked his arm sharply out of Aikawa's grasp. He was in full fight mode now.

"We need Korovin, Eri! There are things he can tell us, things we'll need to know that no one else will have the answer to but him. He will face justice, but it should be at the hands of the law!"

Akihiko's head was splitting. He could feel a burning his bones and his stomach rolled uneasily. He knew on some level that Santo Justino was right.

He understood already too that any satisfaction he felt from his action was hollow: nothing would ease the pain of losing Misaki.

Slowly, using the wall to brace himself, Akihiko rose on unsteady legs.

"He killed him."

Santo Justino looked at Usami in shock. "What?"

"Korovin, he killed my Misaki." Usami's voice was low and haggard. He gestured over to the remote lying in a pool of coagulating blood.

Aikawa had been stunned and horrified by Akihiko's recent actions, but suddenly with these words she understood everything. She left Santo Justino's side, unmindful that the detective's gun was still drawn and rushed to help Akihiko stand.

"Sensei?"

"I saw him, he had Misaki hooked to an I.V. He had that remote… Poison…"

Aikawa's eyes filled with tears as her gaze met Akihiko's and she saw the painful truth reflected there.

Akihiko's lavender gaze turned from her to Santo Justino. His expression was now blank. "You helped him."

Santo Justino blanched at the implications of Usami's statement, he lowered his gun.

Reaching up a shaking hand, Aikawa caught Akihiko's jaw and turned his face back to hers.

"Usami-sensei, no… Augusto is here to help."

Akihiko stared into Aikawa's dark gaze. He shook his head slowly. The simple motion of this made him suddenly dizzy and he staggered.

Santo Justino was tormented by the author's words, but he could see also the man was still severely compromised by the effects of whatever it was that Korovin had injected him with. There was no telling either what sort of psychological strain Usami was operating under too, at this point. The detective set his guilt to the side. He would process his failure at a more opportune time. Right now, he did not want to lose one more life.

"Aikawa, we need to get them out of here… All three of them."

Aikawa looked from Akihiko to Santo Justino.

"Do you think you can carry Jadir?"

Aikawa glanced over at the still boy lying across the hall; his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. He was smaller than Misaki and so thin, except for his belly. She nodded at Augusto's question.

"I'm going to do what I can to try and stop Korovin's bleeding, if it's not too late. I'll carry him. Usami, can you walk?"

Akihiko shook his head.

"I'm not leaving without my Misaki. I have to find him."

"You can barely stand upright. God knows what you're dealing with. We need to get you out of here and under a doctor's care."

"Alvarez is no doubt on his way and the international team was called too. They'll scour this place until Misaki's found, whatever his state. I can promise you this."

Santo Justino holstered his gun as a show of his good intentions. He need Usami to cooperate now. He casually slipped a hand into his pocket feeling around for one of his slip-ties. He would restrain Usami if he had to. Though he didn't relish the idea, the man was obviously no longer anywhere near rational.

"I'm not leaving until I find my Misaki." Akihiko's hoarse whisper was firm.

"But Sensei…" Aikawa was fearful for Usami: he was sweating profusely now and she could feel the heat radiating off of his lean frame. His normally pale skin had taken on a deathly hue.

"Listen to Eri, Usami." Santo Justino nodded towards Aikawa.

Akihiko could tell that Santo Justino meant to somehow prevent him from carrying out his mission. He was struggling under the fever that filled him now, but he was determined that he would not leave this pit without his beloved, no matter what it took.

Aikawa's entreaty gave him just the opportunity he was looking for.

He allowed himself to stagger slightly forward. Aikawa leaned in to better support him once more and found herself suddenly pushed back with a surprising strength. She tumbled backwards, losing her footing and crashed to the bloody floor.

As she looked up in stunned disbelief she saw that Akihiko had pulled the Taser from her skirt-waist. A moment later Augusto crumpled to the floor, his body twitching as the Taser's electric current coursed through him.

Her eyes widened further and she bit back an astonished yelp as Akihiko stumbled over and pulled the detective's gun from its holster and pointed the weapon at her.

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><p><strong>Okay, you should have expected this of me by now. <strong>

**The chapter was getting way too long, so I cut it off here. I am working on the remainder now and hope to have the rest of this chapter up later tonight, maybe tomorrow.**

**Thank you once again for all the amazing reviews and comments. I still do intend to post "post-chapter" author's notes, but I want to get through this story. Remember, I draw energy from you and your feedback, my wonderful readers.**


	34. Contact

**So I didn't make my posting yesterday. I am on vacation and my family abducted me. They stole me from my writing frenzy and forced me to be social. Actually, it wasn't really bad at all, though it was hard to be present and keep my mind with them and not in the story.**

**Here's the next chapter for you today though.**

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><p><strong>Days Without Sun<strong>

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Contact**

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><p>Aikawa was at a complete loss, stunned speechless by this turn of events.<p>

Akihiko moved around her unsteadily though the gun in his hand never wavered.

Stepping over to his previously discarded pants, Akihiko bent over carefully and retrieved them. He drew them on awkwardly with his free hand after moving back over to one of the walls to brace himself.

"I'm sorry, Aikawa-san."

Aikawa blinked a few times. She was still trying desperately to wrap her mind around all that had happened.

She stared hard at Akihiko, this man she'd worked with for years and had considered a friend. She was not truly afraid that Usami would shoot her, despite the fact she'd just seen him do a number of things she would have never dreamed possible.

Rather than fear, what Aikawa felt most was sorrow and a simmering anger.

"Akihiko, what are you doing?" Her voice was quiet, but calm. She used Usami's first name for the second time since their reunion in Korovin's lair: she figured having a gun drawn on her gave her the right to be personal.

"Please, Aikawa-san… I need you to understand…" Akihiko ran long fingers through his sweat-soaked bangs. "I can't… I can't leave him… However he is…"

As long as she'd known him, Usami Akihiko was a man, who, while publicly composed, lived a private life governed by his passions. She knew how much Misaki meant to Akihiko and also without a doubt that he would not be dissuaded.

She sighed heavily and glanced over at Augusto.

The detective was lying much stiller now, though his breath was still labored and his body trembled intermittently with Tasered aftershocks.

Her heart broke for this good man who had been trying to serve them. She looked over at Jadir.

_And all Korovin's victims…_

"Santo Justino will be out for a bit… there shouldn't be any lasting physical effects."

Aikawa turned back towards Akihiko. Though he still looked awful, he seemed more composed. His rasping voice was far from its usual sensual drawl, but even with its clipped cadence, it too sounded stronger.

Another deep sigh escaped Aikawa. She bowed her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. She felt a quiet fury well in her chest at the thought of all she'd sacrificed in her personal life to nurture the fictional lives of others… and the real people around her.

_And now this…_

Aikawa felt certain Augusto would be unlikely to forgive her for aiding Usami after Akihiko's treacherous action here. She shook her head.

"What would you have me do, Sensei?"

Akihiko looked momentarily stunned by Aikawa's acquiescence, but he did not allow himself to linger in question.

"Trust me… Please, Eri…"

"Aikawa-san," Aikawa corrected letting Akihiko know she wanted no intimacy in this betrayal of Augusto. "Make no mistake… I am not happy with you, Sensei."

Akihiko nodded solemnly. "I understand."

_Like hell you do._

"So?" Now that she had reached a decision, Aikawa did not want to draw things out.

"Korovin is dead… or he will be shortly. He's no danger now." Even as he said this, however, Akihiko's eyes were inextricably pulled to the man's stilled form. "Santo Justino will be safe here… until he recovers."

Aikawa's brow creased at these assertions.

"Please, Aikawa-san… Take Jadir… Get him out of here if you can. He saved my life… We… You… must try and save his."

"How?"

Akihiko rubbed his throbbing temples.

"Carry him… You said you could … You found the Taser… My bag…" Every word was taking more of his energy than Akihiko wanted to expend.

"There's a phone there… the first number… As soon as you're outside, call it. They're waiting… a medical unit. I had them on standby for… Misaki. They'll take you and Jadir somewhere safe… The others too."

Aikawa was amazed at the scenario Akihiko had authored, the impossible hope of it. She was caught off guard, however, at the mention of others.

"Others…?"

Akihiko ignored the question. "They can be here in five minutes… Out on the lawn." He saw the look on Aikawa's face informing him the woman thought he was crazy… well, crazier. He was, but not in this instance.

"Helicopter… I am an Usami, after all."

The barest hint of a smile curved the corner of Akihiko's mouth when Aikawa's jaw dropped at his "arrangements." He pushed off from the wall and stepped forward, his walk slightly drunken, moving the direction that Korovin had emerged from.

He stopped and then waited for Aikawa to rise. He motioned with the gun and nodded in approval as she took the hint and clambered up. She began moving towards Jadir, but then stopped.

"What about the dogs? Makes the lawn problematic."

Akihiko frowned. "Take my gun; it's there on your boyfriend… Somewhere."

Aikawa turned and moved over to Santo Justino. He was still out. She struggled to roll him over after a quick pat down and at last found the gun tucked into the back waistband of his trousers. She tucked this cautiously into the band of her skirt.

Then she resettled the detective back into a more comfortable position. She ran a soft hand over Augusto's brow.

"Ex-boyfriend, no doubt now. No thanks to you!" Aikawa had meant this to add a bit of black humor to an already dark moment. She was shocked, however, at how much the possible truth of it pained her.

She turned to see how her joke had been received by Usami, but he was gone. Santo Justino's gun lay on the polished stone where he had been standing just a moment before.

Aikawa felt the urge to suddenly chase after him, but a quiet whimper from Jadir stopped her. She moved quickly to Jadir's side.

The boy was curled in on himself, holding his abdomen. Aikawa lifted the jacket and saw that the black fabric strips she'd bound his stomach with soaked through.

"Jadir…"

Jadir didn't respond, though his eyelids fluttered at the sound of his name.

Aikawa was hit with a sudden dread. She bent down and scooped Jadir into her arms. She was amazed at how light he was.

With one last regretful glance back at Santo Justino, Aikawa turned and started down the hall in the direction she'd first come. Her eyes were already anticipating the pale crosses that would guide her and Jadir hopefully to safety.

* * *

><p>Misaki was struggling back to consciousness when he heard a distant scream. His head shot up and he was filled with fear for Usagi-san. Fueled by this, he forced himself up and began to crawl forward again. His belly slid along the polished stone corridor.<p>

After a moment, Misaki stopped to roll onto his side and tucked his cock and balls up between his thighs. As humiliating as such an action felt, it certainly beat the burn he was already feeling from his bare skin grazing the cement.

He wished he'd thought to take a bit of sheet or something to put between himself and the floor now. Flipping back onto his stomach his still-terrified mind was spurred to a memory by this.

Misaki had learned from his time with Korovin that his thoughts would go to the most unexpected places at the direst of times. He'd stopped wondering about such strange intrusions months ago and usually ignored these mental hiccups as best he could.

But not now.

His remembrance was of when he'd once scooted across the glossy wood floor on his back on the landing in Usagi-san's flat and told Usagi he was doing this to polish it.

_I want that back…_

_I want to have times like that again… wonderful, awkward, embarrassing times with Usagi-san. I want to have a life with him… _

Misaki's heart stopped for a moment when new sounds of pain carried down the halls to him. He knew where Usagi and Korovin had collided, and this point was still quite a ways. Even farther at the rate he was going.

_Please don't let him be hurting Usagi-san. Please…_

His thin body was slick now with sweat from his exertion and his flesh stung where the salt of this wept into his abraded skin. Misaki drug himself along faster despite this, oblivious to the tears of pain and fear that were rolling down his cheeks.

He stopped, however, frozen, when the next anguished cry ricocheted off the dims walls of Korovin's maze.

"MISAKI!"

There was no doubt that the voice belonged to Usagi-san but Misaki had never heard the man sound like that before.

He was glad of this: the anguish in Usagi-san's voice was so immense, Misaki suddenly felt as though he was suffocating beneath the weight of it.

A tremor shook him and Misaki found he could not make his body stop trembling.

_I am too late._

There was no doubt in his mind that his Usagi-san was dying. Only a terrible death would ever wring such a baleful cry from a man like Usami Akihiko .

Misaki tried to swallow the sobs that gathered like a storm in his chest. He rolled over onto his side and curled into himself, his body quaking with shock and his stifled cries.

_Usagi-san called for me. It was my name…_

_He came for me and Korovin killed him._

Within Misaki's battered mind he suddenly heard Korovin's jeering voice.

_No Misaki, he came for you. And in this _you_ killed him… _

Misaki put his hands to his ears as if this would protect him from the cruel taunts ringing inside his own skull.

Now Korovin would come for him, but with Usagi-san dead Misaki didn't care anymore. A harsh gasp shuddered his already shaking frame.

He curled himself tighter and wept.

* * *

><p>Aikawa moved through the hallways as quickly as she could, carrying Jadir.<p>

Once or twice he shifted slightly in her arms and moaned softly, but other than this, he lay still.

Following the crosses, at each one Aikawa found her thoughts drawn to Augusto. She muttered quiet curses and whispered soft prayers for both the detective and Usami.

When she at last reached Akihiko's abandoned duffel she set Jadir gently on the ground. Aikawa stretched her stiff arms. Even as light as he was, she didn't think that she could have carried him much further without a break.

She dug through the bag and located the phone. She tucked this into the top of her bra and after readjusting the gun at her waist bent to gather Jadir up again.

Before she gathered him up again, however, she opened the jacket the boy was ensconced to check on his wound.

The dark fabric made it almost impossible to tell how much blood Jadir had lost. Aikawa shivered involuntarily as her eyes swept over the teen's ruined body.

_So much suffering._

Aikawa reached out and gently touched Jadir's cheek.

Jadir made a noise in his throat and Aikawa saw that his eyes were halfway open, his gaze cloudy. She leaned in seeing that Jadir was trying to say something.

Aikawa was torn from trying to decipher his words as her ears now also caught the sounds of movement coming from the hallway ahead of her. She jumped up, stepped to the side of Jadir, and pressed herself close to the wall. Drawing the gun from her waistband with a shaky hand, she pulled it out and aimed it at the empty space ahead of her.

_I have never even shot a gun before._

Her grip on the gun tightened as the sound of heavy feet rapidly drew nearer.

* * *

><p>Akihiko stumbled down the mazed hallways. He tried not to imagine what it was that Korovin had injected him with or how much farther he could go before he succumbed to it and collapsed.<p>

His pale brow shone with fevered sweat and his newly-donned trousers clung to his wet skin. He could never recall aching so badly: every step was painful.

A new wave of dizziness gripped him and Akihiko lurched sideways. He put out his hands and steadied himself against the wall to keep from toppling over.

Jadir had given him some basic directions as they'd traveled on the location of Korovin's playroom. Akihiko struggled against the pain in his skull to remember the details the boy had given.

His lungs hurt and he wondered if breathing was truly becoming harder or if it was his fear of not being able to breathe that was really constricting his chest.

_I'm so close… I can't stop now._

He closed his eyes and drew as deep a breath as his taxed lungs would allow. He exhaled this slowly. After a few more measured breaths his dizziness abated enough for him to recall Jadir's directions.

He pushed himself away from the wall and shambled forward.

Akihiko moved slowly, his steps unsteady.

His mind was drawn to a montage of moments of Misaki zombie jokes about his morning manners. It was true; he often woke after a long stint of writing in a rather deathly state.

Now he really did feel more dead than alive, however.

Akihiko's vision was suddenly blurred: not a consequence of the injection, but of his memories.

He amended his earlier thought.

_Dead men don't suffer._

Rounding a corner, Akihiko blinked rapidly. He brought a bloodied hand to his eyes and wiped away his tears.

Before him, lying in the middle of the hallway was a thin, battered body.

_Another one of that animal's victims…_

Then as Akihiko's gaze swept over the prone form ahead of him again, his troubled eyes took in the details… the close-cropped brown hair, the twin casts… His mind reeled at the impossibility as these elements snapped into his last image of his beloved.

Then the figure stirred and struggled up onto quaking arms.

The dark head lifted and Akihiko found himself staring into a pair of wild, green eyes. Akihiko felt his heart seize.

He took two more steps forward before his knees gave way and his legs dropped out from beneath him.

* * *

><p>Aikawa lost her breath and the gun fell from her trembling fingers when the hall before her was suddenly filled with half a dozen armored men wielding significantly more firepower than she. She suddenly felt faint and was glad the wall was behind her or she'd surely have crashed to the floor.<p>

The men looked just as stunned as she felt.

The lead man raised his hand and behind him the fearsome weapons suddenly lowered.

"Miss Aikawa?"

Alvarez stepped forward and reached out to support her.

"Oh, Kami-sama… Mr. Alvarez…"

Alvarez was concerned with the editor's disheveled state, but he was ecstatic to find her alive and mobile.

He'd had the men staking out Akihiko's flat contacted the minute Santo Justino had called and told him he was headed after Usami. The two men stationed at the condo had left immediately and were soon not far behind the detective.

When S. J. slipped through Korovin's gates and made his crazy plans clear, Alvarez had the tail men stop and detain the vehicle that had left the estate. It had not taken Santo Justino's men much persuasion to get the gate code from Vasca.

When Alvarez learned that the international team was still hours away from being properly mobilized, he called his own troops together. Despite the warnings from the global assault team, they had all agreed to go rogue and back up their director.

They'd assembled with haste and in the meantime, the two men in possession of the gate's code, and a small arsenal, mobilized their own additional "distraction."

When Alvarez and his troops arrived, the gate was jammed open; Santo Justino's car was a smoldering heap in the drive, and there were almost a dozen of Korovin's guards lying dead or wounded.

The rest of the Doc's staff had surrendered relatively easily, with the exception of the hounds. A number of furry carcasses now littered the estate's normally pristine grounds.

"Miss Aikawa, are you hurt? Where's S.J?"

It took Aikawa a few moments to process this rapid shift in her circumstances. "I'm fine. But… She stepped back from Alvarez and looked down at Jadir.

Alvarez followed he eyes.

"Holy fuck…" he breathed when he saw Jadir. "Herrera, Moreno, get up here! You guys have EMT training, right?"

Two men stepped up from the back of the squad.

"Yeah, but we don't have our gear." Herrera was kneeling down at Jadir's side, even as he spoke.

"Usami-sensei has a medical team waiting, I just have to call. They have a helicopter…"

"Sensei's looking for Misaki." Aikawa couldn't bring herself to say that Misaki was dead.

"Augusto is with Korovin… Korovin is wounded, maybe dead. Follow the crosses and you'll find them." Aikawa motioned to Santo Justino's marks on the wall. She omitted the details of Augusto's own condition, hoping for the sake of face that he'd be on his feet by the time Alvarez and the other men found him.

Though his brow had risen at the mention of the helicopter, Alvarez took in all this information with little other display of emotion. There was a reason Santo Justino had made him his second.

"Have you seen any guards, any other personnel down here, Miss Aikawa?"

Alvarez's guarded eyes widened when Jadir suddenly began wailing.

The boy had roused enough to become aware of the men surrounding him and the strange hands upon him. He was terrified, despite Herrera and Moreno's attempts to calm him.

Aikawa quickly dropped down and reached for Jadir. The boy latched onto her with his good arm and clung to her, sobbing, as she tried to soothe him.

She shook her head. "No, I haven't seen anyone else, but Sensei said there were others."

Alvarez suppressed a shudder at the thought of finding more boys in Jadir's condition. He had been appalled by the youth's appearance, though outside his initial exclamation he'd done his best not to show it.

"Moreno, you help Miss Aikawa get out. And get that chopper here pronto! Diaz radio the guys outside and let them know what's going on. Herrera you drop back in with us in case we need you for Korovin, or the others…"

"Moreno, as soon as you get Miss Aikawa and her friend squared away, you get your tail back here immediately! Keep your radio on so you know what's what. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Let's move then!"

The sound of Jadir's weakening cries was quickly drowned out by the murmurs and shuffling of the men as they re-mobilized. A moment later Santo Justino's posse was gone and Aikawa found herself alone in the hall with Jadir and Moreno.

Moreno helped Aikawa to rise. It was cumbersome as Jadir had buried his face in her neck and was holding on with a surprisingly iron-like grip.

"Can you manage him, Miss Aikawa?" Moreno felt badly that the petite woman beside him should bear the burden of the boy, but at the same time he could tell the youth was in a severe state and he didn't want to tax the traumatized teen further by forcing him away from someone he obviously took comfort in.

Aikawa nodded her head solemnly after shifting Jadir in her arms just a bit. She felt like she could carry Jadir for miles now, as long as she could escape this pit.

Moreno nodded back and pulled out his gun again: just because the woman said she hadn't seen any more bad guys didn't mean he should be lax.

He gave Aikawa a grim smile. "Let's get you two out of here!"

* * *

><p>Misaki had stopped his silent weeping when he heard the footsteps approaching.<p>

They didn't sound like Korovin's.

After months of being held by the Doc, he had memorized every nuance of the man's motions.

_Or if it is Korovin_, Misaki suddenly thought, _something's wrong with him._

A sudden warmth filled Misaki's aching chest at the notion perhaps Usagi-san had at least managed to wound the man before he died. At the same time however, in the back of his mind, though he didn't want to admit it, was also the idea that Korovin was somehow invincible.

Misaki had no doubt that whatever had happened, Usagi-san would have been brave to the end. Knowing that Usagi would be waiting for him now on the other side filled Misaki with a new kind of courage.

He would not meet his fate curled up like a dog.

Misaki summoned the last of himself and unfurled. He pushed himself up on his trembling arms and lifted his head to meet his captor's gaze.

His eyes grew huge when he saw the man stumbling towards him.

* * *

><p><strong>You are going to think me a cruel as Korovin, drawing this out... But I want things to be properly wrapped up, which leads to more words than I most always originally think I'll need.<strong>

**At least you know your two lovers have seen each other now. Next chapter will start with their reunion... I just want to get it right.**

**So I am traveling today and tomorrow and have to be back at work on Friday. So the next installment will be this weekend.**

**While you're waiting, please drop me a review. Even if it's to rail at me for my treacherous posting habits... But seriously, your response to the last chapters has been amazing and I am immensely warmed by all the feedback.**

**MiniBlueSkirt, thank you for letting me know that you're still out there. **

**Still planning to add post-post AN's to thank all the rest of you!**


	35. Safe

**Days Without Sun**

**Chapter Thirty-Five: Safe**

* * *

><p><em>Usagi-san!<em>

Misaki's heart thundered in his chest. His mind spun, barely able to comprehend and fearful of believing what he saw. He wanted to cry out but found himself completely at a loss, unable to make any sound but a gasp.

Coming down the hall towards him was _his Usagi-san_, but in such a state that Misaki was filled with an indescribable pain. His usually dapper Rabbit was naked but for a pair of black pants. Usagi's leanly muscled torso shone with sweat and blood against skin far paler than usual. His normally sensual gait was hobbled.

In this moment, Usagi-san had never looked so terrible or so beautiful to Misaki.

Their eyes met and Misaki felt an overwhelming rush.

His pounding heart lurched when Usagi-san suddenly dropped to his knees as though his legs had been cut out from under him. Pulling himself as quickly he could on trembling arms, Misaki rushed forward.

Akihiko knelt unmoving for a moment. Nothing in all his life, nothing he'd experienced, no scenario he had ever conjured as an author could ever have prepared him for the emotions that surged like a current through his veins the moment he understood that his Misaki was alive. The force of it drove him to his knees; it rendered him speechless.

Tears filled Akihiko's eyes, the overflow of his flooded senses.

_Misaki…_

What welled and rolled down his cheeks was a bittersweet mixture: overwhelming joy that Misaki had endured, and tremendous pain at how terribly his beautiful Blossom had been ravaged by his ordeal.

Akihiko roused when he saw Misaki laboring to draw near him. He heaved himself to his feet, but only made it a few strides before his strength left him and he found himself crashing to his knees once more. Unhindered by the realization that he could no longer hold himself upright, Akihiko scrabbled forward on hands and knees.

Akihiko and Misaki neared each other at last, but each stopped just short of the other. It was as if both were suddenly fearful that when they reached out, the figure before them would disappear and they would wake once more to find this reunion, like so many before, was nothing but a dream.

At last, Akihiko stretched a bloodied hand forward. Long fingers offered the gentlest of touches as he brushed the cropped, brown hair at Misaki's temple.

Misaki didn't flinch as a moment later this same hand slipped down and Usagi's palm, strangely warm, gently cupped the side of his bruised cheek.

Akihiko's whole arm tremored as the sensation of this touch jolted through him like a burst of electricity. His other hand moved to cradle the other side of Misaki's face. Akihiko lightly swept his thumb over his beloved's broken bottom lip.

Misaki closed tear-filled eyes. He stilled himself as much as his trembling limbs would allow and let Usgi-san's fingers caress him. Akihiko's own tears multiplied as his hand traveled over Misaki's sunken cheeks, they traced his damp brow. Pale eyes caught and cataloged every detail.

Misaki could feel the wetness of his tears trapped between his cheek and Usagi-san's hand. He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to the side of Usagi's palm. He heard the choking exhale this act pulled from his Rabbit and felt his lover's other hand still. Pushing further into Akihiko's touch, Misaki rested the weight of his heavy head in the smooth palm that held him. He felt Usagi's other hand begin to move again.

He tensed when gentle fingers began to trail down his neck.

Akihiko paused again, but only for a moment, then his fingertips feathered over the mottled-purple band left behind by Korovin on Misaki's throat.

Something in this soft touch unlocked Misaki's voice. He began sobbing loudly; his cries shook his whole frame.

"U… Usagi… s… san…"

The sound of Misaki's anguish broke Akihiko from whatever spell had held him. He moved as quickly as he could around Misaki and, careful of his boy's damaged legs, pulled him into his arms. He held Misaki tightly, clasping him to his chest.

At first Misaki, conditioned by his months with Korovin, shrunk away from this sudden movement. But then feeling the comfort of the embracing limbs and freed from the strain of supporting himself, he wrapped his thin arms around Usagi-san's slick shoulders and buried his head into the side of his lover's neck. He felt Usagi-san's breath against his skin as warm lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, the base of his ear.

"Misaki."

"Misaki."

"Misaki."

Akihiko too had at last found his voice and he uttered Misaki's name like a benediction between every gentle kiss. He settled Misaki carefully into his lap and scooted them to the side of the hall, so that his back was supported by one of the dim walls.

Misaki was startled by the strangeness of Usagi-san's voice. His eyes flickered up and he saw in Usagi-san's face a blaze of emotions unlike anything he'd ever witnessed. He felt his cheeks burn as their gazes locked and held. At last Misaki dropped his head. He allowed Akihiko to gather him tightly once more.

How long they sat there clinging to each other, each shaking with grateful sobs, neither knew or cared. All that mattered was that they were together.

At last, too exhausted to cry any more, Misaki stilled. Akihiko lessened his hold, but only enough for Misaki to pull away slightly. Misaki looked into Akihiko's lavender gaze and asked the question that had been burning in him from the moment he'd recognized his lover.

"W… What about…"

In this sacred reunion he could not bring himself to utter his hated captor's name. Misaki shuddered.

"W… what about h… him?" He choked on the last word.

"Gone."

Misaki could hardly dare believe it, but Akihiko's rough voice was filled with such surety.

"He will never hurt you again." At these words Misaki collapsed against Akihiko's chest, his breath coming in hitched gasps.

_It's really over then? _

Akihiko gathered Misaki into him again. He ran a hand over Misaki's short hair. It felt so alien compared with the thick locks he'd so loved to tangle through his fingers.

"I promise you Misaki, you're safe. That bastard is gone; he can't touch you now… or ever again." After this pronouncement, both Misaki and Akihiko fell silent; the only sounds in the hall were their combined heavy breaths.

Eventually Misaki pushed himself up from Akihiko's embrace once more. Akihiko sat perfectly still and watched as Misaki's large eyes traveled over him.

"He hurt you."

Akihiko's eyes widened at the concern held in Misaki's voice. He could not believe the beauty of his beloved: that his battered boy, despite all his own wounds, would be worried about his injuries.

Akihiko felt his fever, the terrible ache of his joints, the pain in his head, his labored lungs.

"It's nothing."

Misaki reached out and placed his hand on Akihiko's chest. His open palm covered Akihiko's self-inflicted wound. He could feel the mad pulse beneath.

_Usagi-san's heart is beating so fast._

Akihiko released Misaki to cover his beloved's hand with his own. Their eyes met and each remembered that moment on the couch in his flat: the first time they'd joined each other completely, flesh to flesh. A silent communion was exchanged between them. Simultaneously they leaned forward. Akihiko was careful of Misaki's torn mouth and their lips met in the tenderest of kisses. When they broke their kiss they rested a moment, their foreheads pressed together.

Then Misaki pulled away. He shifted his aching legs and lay back against Usagi, his dark head rested against a broad shoulder. His eyelids felt sandpapery from all his tears and exceedingly heavy. Misaki closed his eyes.

"S… stupid, Usagi… You're hurt… Your heart…"

Bending his neck so that his cheek rested against the top of Misaki's head, Akihiko allowed the first real smile since Misaki had left him. He lifted the hand that Misaki had placed on his chest and kissed it, then allowed it to return to where his boy had touched indelibly him.

"Misaki, you are my heart… Nothing pains me now." He nuzzled into Misaki's damp, dirty hair; his own eyelids slowly drifted down.

* * *

><p>Santo Justino roused from his tasered state with a fierce headache and a dozen new aches. He rose unsteadily and, after a visual sweep of the room, saw that he was alone with Korovin. His eyes caught sight of his gun and he moved over as quickly as possible to retrieve it. He groaned when he bent over at the pain behind his eyes and in his still burning chest.<p>

_Fucking Usami! _

He only hoped Aikawa had enough presence to break away with Jadir and try to get them both out of here.

Stepping to Korovin's slumped form after tucking his gun away, Santo Justino pressed two fingers to the killer's throat and after a long moment felt a very weak pulse.

"God damn it."

Grimacing with distaste, the detective pushed Korovin onto his back. He knelt next to the man and pulled Usami's knife out of Korovin's groin and then used this to cut away his trousers.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!"

Santo Justino's chest hitched at the sight of Korovin's ruined genitals. He felt his stomach twist and his own balls retract.

_Not that you didn't deserve it, you sick fuck._

Reaching into his pocket he withdrew two of his plastic twist ties and used these as crude tourniquets, securing one at the base of Korovins' cock, the other his sac. Santo Justino knew that in doing this there was would be little chance of Korovin's damaged organs surviving.

_Not that you'll need them where you're going… if by some chance you live through this, that is._

He'd just finished his makeshift medical operation when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. He rose somewhat clumsily, still suffering from being tased; he pulled out his gun, and waited. A few moments later, Alvarez and his crew came into view. Santo Justino lowered his weapon and exhaled a shaky sigh.

_I am getting too old for this shit._

"What the hell ever happened to stealth, Alvarez? I could hear you from a mile away!"

Alvarez too lowered his gun and the other men did the same. He cocked his head at the reprimand, though he could tell there was no real fire in his boss' voice.

"And here I thought you might be happy to see us, S.J." Alvarez's dark eyes drifted down to Korovin's bloodied form. One of his thick brows rose. "But I can see you have things well in hand, Chief."

"Korovin, I assume?"

Santo Justino nodded.

"Dead?"

"Almost."

"Herrera!"

Herrera had already moved to the front of the crew. Santo Justino and Alvarez stepped to the side to allow him access to Korovin. It took Herrera no time to ascertain the killer's condition."He's fading fast; he needs medical treatment immediately."

"Will he hold on until the chopper gets here?" At Alvarez's mention of the helicopter Santo Justino's brow rose.

"International?"

Alvarez shook his head. "We're all rogue. They won't be here for another hour at least. Miss Aikawa said Usami arranged the chopper before he bolted: a medical unit." He dropped his eyes when he saw his boss' face at the mention of the editor.

Santo Justino quickly recovered himself. "She okay?"

"Managing. She and the boy are with Moreno. He'll get them situated and then get back to us. We have the estate secured." Alvarez looked at Santo Justino again. "She mentioned _others_."

Seeing Korovin's condition, Alvarez had been filled with questions but he held his silence now, waiting for his superior to fill him in.

"Herrera," Santo Justino called out. "There's a surgery setup down here, I can point you there. It's not in the most sanitary state, but it'll do for this situation. You should find most everything you need there. Take two guys with you to assist.

"Stay out of the back room though. We want to save that for the big guns and their investigative team."

"Diaz, you take the rest of the crew and I'll tell you where to find the others boys. Call Moreno and have him meet you there… It's bad and you're going to need him. Have him ask the chopper how many they can carry and if they can wait to take another couple on.

"Alvarez, Fernandez, and I are going to find Usami and pull him out of here."

After a few more minutes of hurried instructions the men dispersed and Santo Justino found himself wandering down the halls with Fernandez and his second. They tracked Akihiko's bloody footprints for a good part of their journey.

Then rounding a corner they found them.

The men had only a few seconds to take in the scene before they ran down to the two entwined figures, seated, braced by one of the dank walls, but Santo Justino would never forget the sight .

As a child his parents had taken him to Europe to meet his father's family. He was probably about ten or eleven at the time. They'd traveled on this trip to a number of countries. Good Catholics, they had made a pilgrimage to Rome and there, Vatican City. It was in the Basilica that Santo Justino had encountered something that had a profound effect on him: Michelangelo's "Pieta."

He had never encountered anything like it. The emotion and the scale, the way the marble turned to flesh and folded fabric, so living it seemed to breathe. They image of Mary cradling her dead son had moved him to tears, though under his father's stern rearing he'd already learned not to cry.

It was an image that came to him often when he had been on the force, dealing with grieving parents and lover's whose hearts' treasures had been taken from them. But here now, in the flesh, Usami Akihiko holding Takahashi Misaki replicated Michelangelo's masterpiece.

Santo Justino felt his breath catch at the sight.

In truth, though he had denied it, Usami's relationship and the age of his lover had made him uneasy. The detective was a traditional man and while he never openly criticized alternative lifestyles, he preferred for them to remain unseen and un-articulated. But here in this instant, seeing Takahashi's prone body in Usami's lap, their bloody, battered bodies, Usami's bowed head, Santo Justino took in the purest picture of love and sacrifice he'd ever know.

Stunned by this realization, Santo Justino's footsteps faltered slightly and Alvarez and Fernandez reached the two men before him.

They were so still.

Alvarez put two fingers to Misaki's bruised throat. Then he did the same to Usami.

"They're alive."

Santo Justino released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding.

"We need to get them out of here.

"I'll take Takahashi. Alvarez, you and Fernandez get Usami."

Santo Justino knelt down and began to pull Akihiko's arms down away from Misaki. He started when this movement roused Akihiko and he found himself staring into a pair of cool, pale eyes.

"I'm not letting him go." Akihiko's voice was low and raw; he shifted and pulled Misaki's unconscious form up and gripped him tighter.

"Look, Usami, I understand you don't want to lose him again, but he's safe now. We need to get you both out of here." Santo Justino kept his tone gentle but firm.

Seeing the two lovers together, he'd all but forgiven Usami for tasing him. He knew too that Usami might have been operating under the duress of whatever shit Korovin had shot him up with, though truthfully he could have easily seen Usami doing the same thing without any altering substances, his desire for Takahashi was so strong.

"I. AM. NOT. LETTING. GO."

Akihiko's eyes didn't blink and his hold on Misaki tightened. Santo Justino's hand was resting lightly now on Usami's arms and beneath his fingers he could feel the iron of the man's grip. The detective shook his head.

"Can you walk, Usami?"

The fire in Akihiko's eyes dimmed slightly at the question. It was taking all that he had just to hold on to Misaki at this point. Still, his pride wouldn't allow him to admit it, nor did he want them to take Misaki from him. He nodded his head slowly.

"Help him up, guys."

Watching as Alvarez and Fernandez each got on a side and helped Usami to his feet, lifting both Usami and Misaki, Santo Justino wondered if Usami would even be able to stand.

Akihiko was pulled up and wavered there unsteadily. He managed a few shambling steps with Misaki before his knees gave way beneath him. Fortunately Alvarez and Fernandez had stayed at his side and eased his descent. Santo Justino stared down at Usami. Akihiko's pale cheeks burned with fever and shame at being seen in such a compromised state, but he met Santo Justino's eyes and his expression said that he wouldn't relent.

Exhaling a long breath, the detective shook his head. "Alvarez, you and Fernandez get to the room where Korovin was keeping the others. You remember my directions? Some of the beds in there looked like gurneys. They had wheels. Grab one and get back here A.S.A.P."

Both men were shocked by their director's acquiescence: Usami didn't look like he was in any condition to really put up much of a protest now. Still, they nodded and headed off.

Once they were gone, Santo Justino sat down heavily on the floor not far from Akihiko. He was still feeling weakened from the effect of the Taser. He watched silently as Usami adjusted Misaki in his arms. Akihiko's shaky fingers swept over Misaki's pale cheeks. He touched Misaki's throat for re-assurance and found the beat there: weak, but steady.

Santo Justino dipped a hand into one of his bottomless pockets and withdrew a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He offered a smoke to Akihiko.

While his veins screamed for a hit of nicotine, breathing was hard enough as it was. Regretfully Akihiko shook his head. One of Santo Justino's brows rose in curious surprise.

"Trying to quit. They're… bad for one's health."

"So are you, Usami."

Santo Justino lowered his head as he lit up and took a deep drag. He looked over again when the author snorted lightly at his comment.

Pale eyes locked onto dark ones. "Thank you, Santo Justino-san." Akihiko bowed his head breaking their gaze. "For everything."

Santo Justino waited for Usami's head to rise again. He nodded brusquely and took another long pull on his smoke, exhaling into the shadows.

The two men waited in silence for Alvarez and Fernandez to return.

* * *

><p>Aikawa looked down as the chopper descended. This was the helicopter's third trip to Korovin's estate.<p>

True to his word, Akihiko had made arrangements. The first trip of the copter had taken them to "A Clínica Dos Novos Dias," a plastic surgery and addictions facility that catered to the ultra rich and famous.

Akihiko had pulled some strings and offered a ridiculous amount of money to secure a team of doctors and surgeons and an entire floor for his impossible rescue of Misaki.

The medics on the helicopter had managed to sedate and stabilize Jadir, though his stomach wound deeply perplexed them. Not long after this, Moreno had sent men out with four other boys, the most serious cases, from his sickroom triage. Fortunately Moreno managed to locate some of Korovin's tranquilizers and sedated Korovin's captives, as all were extremely traumatized already and most severely panicked or were overcome when Santo Justino's men had burst into the incubator.

The staff at _New Days_ had balked at the sudden influx of patients initially, not expecting such a number. But Aikawa had quickly shifted into hard-ass business mode and after much argument and a direct call to Usami Fuyuhiko for back up, the clinic was now in high gear. More physicians, psychologists, and trauma experts had been called in and were making sure their new clients were all taken care of.

Aikawa had been busied making arrangements after seeing that Jadir was in good hands and so, worked through the second wave of boys that were brought in. She'd learned from one of Augusto's men, who had accompanied the second batch, that Akihiko had been located and Misaki too... Alive.

Hearing this, after shedding more than a few joyful tears, there had been _nothing_ that was going to keep her from being on that third trip to receive Akihiko and Misaki, along with the last of Korovin's known captives.

Eager eyes searched the grounds as they dropped. Aikawa was amazed by the number of cars and big trucks that filled the road leading Korovin's estate. Lights flashed at police blockades and dozens of news vans fanned out beyond these. The drive from the gate too was filled with vehicles. It seemed like an incredible number of people were milling around, but at the moment there were only three Aikawa was interested in locating.

She frowned as the helicopter touched down. She saw several medical pallets, but none of them contained her Sensei or Misaki. Climbing down from the copter Aikawa saw a familiar, dark head weaving through the swarms of uniformed men.

"Aikawa!"

"Flynn-san, what are you doing here?"

The reporter flashed a large grin. "What do you mean? This is the biggest story in the world right now and a hell of a fire fight earlier! There's no way Alvarez or any of S.J's guys were going to exclude me!"

"How are you?" The smile slipped from Flynn's face and her expression revealed her concern.

Blushing, Aikawa unconsciously smoothed out the wrinkles in the cotton scrubs she was wearing. She'd gotten them at the clinic, only too glad to be free of her blood-stained clothes. In truth, she was sore and completely wrung out. Aikawa felt she could easily sleep for a week, but instead of saying this she just smiled.

"I'm managing, thank you."

"Well maybe you'll manage a little better with this..." Flynn dipped into her camera bag and pulled out Aikawa's purse. Aikawa's eyes widened in shock. She looked into it and saw that most of its contents had been returned, including her wallet and her cellphone.

"Thank you, Flynn-san." Aikawa was stunned that the reporter had bothered, but then trying to think about navigating the next days with only Akihiko's replacement cell, she was immensely grateful: most of her life was in her phone.

"I found it when I was sniffing around the grounds, thought you might want it. I picked it up before any of these guys could tag it as evidence. It's too nice a bag to be languishing in some legal storeroom." Flynn winked at Aikawa's new blush.

"Looked like you held one hell of a barbeque. You'll have to tell me about it sometime." The reporter was wearing her trademark sly grin but her eyes were tender.

Aikawa dropped her eyes at the memory of the dog and looked away. As she turned her head she saw two more stretchers emerge from the door to Korovin's lair. A sob of relief was pulled from her when she saw one of these bore two figures and she immediately recognized the sliver and dark brown heads.

She rushed over, Flynn following, and was soon standing beside the rolling gurney. Both Misaki and Akihiko looked to be unconscious. Aikawa covered her mouth with her hand and gasped at Misaki's state.

"Oh, Misaki..." she breathed. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

Alvarez was the one manning the two lovers' stretcher; Fernandez was at the other end. They kept moving as Aikawa hurried beside them.

Alvarez's expression darkened when he saw Flynn next to the editor. He had been very opposed to the reporter accompanying them. Flynn caught his gaze and rolled her eyes. Alvarez's frown deepened and he shifted his keen gaze back to Aikawa.

"They're sedated and seem to be stable at the moment, Miss Aikawa; though it's still very precarious for both of them.

"S.J. filled me in on the details. I'll be going with the chopper to prep the doctors about the situation."

Aikawa nodded though she was slightly confused, still not knowing about Usami having been injected.

Her attention was caught as Santo Justino emerged from the bunker. He was followed by two very large, very official looking men. She stopped as Alvarez and Fernandez moved on with the gurney.

The three men were vehemently arguing about the occupant of the other stretcher.

"I don't give a fuck! There's no way you're putting that monster on that copter alongside his victims!" Santo Justino shouted.

"Detective, he's in a critical state... As are you, right now." One of the officials countered hotly.

"Get an ambulance in here or stick him in the back of one of your trucks then, for all I care, but he's not getting near any of those boys again. I don't give a shit about his state!"

"Don't you think you're in enough trouble already?"

Santo Justino stared hard at the international guard leaders before him.

"I mean what the hell were you doing in Korovin's master room? This whole place is a crime scene," the other official growled.

Ignoring the question, Santo Justino stepped up closer, invading the men's personal space. "You're god damn right it's a crime scene and because of my actions and those of my men, you have have at least three fewer deaths at the moment to add to this mass grave." The detective practically spat these last words before he turned and began walking away.

"Santo Justino, we're not done here!"

Turning toward the man who called out to him, Santo Justino glared. "I am."

"Seriously, Detective, I'll have you restrained!" the other shouted furiously.

Santo Justino's eyes had located Aikawa. He offered her a crooked smile and began walking towards her.

"So do it!" he called back without turning around this time.

Aikawa was stunned by Augusto's bravado, but before he'd gone another five feet, another man in uniform ran up gesturing wildly to the two officials. They looked back at the detective and then after a disgusted shake of their heads, returned to the the newcomer and soon moved out after him. They stopped briefly and talked with the men bearing Korovin's stretcher and the killer's carriers took off at a quick pace in the direction of the drive.

When he reached Aikawa, Santo Justino paused before her. "Can I walk you to your chopper, Eri?"

Aikawa felt a rush of relief flood her already overwrought system. She cocked her head. "I bet you say that to all the ladies."

A low chuckle rattled Santo Justino's throat. He reached down and took Aikawa's arm and together they began moving in the direction of the helicopter.

"Hey Alvarez, your boss needs to make a speedy getaway. How about you and Fernandez tell the boys to pull out and I'll accompany Miss Aikawa to the Clinic and fill in the doctors about everything."

"Whatever you say, Chief." The corner of Alvarez's mouth quirked. "See you back at the office... Later."

Aikawa and Santo Justino clambered in after the last boy was loaded. Aikawa sat between Akihiko and Misaki: the medics had separated the two sleeping lovers into separate cots.

Intermittently she ran gentle fingers over one or the other's brow. She hadn't fully understood before all of this happened how much these two really were part of her family. She looked up and saw Augusto looking at her with a curious expression.

"What?"

Santo Justino fidgeted as the helicopter lifted up; he had never been a big fan of flying. He quickly turned his mind from this discomfort to the matter at hand.

"Well, I am just feeling kind of badly..."

Aikawa tipped her head in question.

"It's just... that was a hell of a second date to take a woman on..." Santo Justino's eyes met Aikawa's. She allowed a small smile.

"You're counting that dinner the other night as our first?"

Santo Justino nodded his assent.

"You know, Augusto, they say third times a charm."

Settling back, suddenly feeling far more relaxed, Santo Justino broke out into a grin. "I guess well just have to test that theory out then."

Aikawa's own smile brightened.

The two fell into a comfortable silence then under the lull of the copter's thrumming blades.

Below Aikawa, Akihiko's eyes opened slightly. Seeing Misaki across from him, his lids drifted down again, just as his hand slipped from beneath the white sheet he was under. His arm spanned the distance between them and his hand found Misaki's and covered it. In his sleep, Misaki responded unconsciously to the touch. His hand turned and his fingers grasped Akihiko's.

They remained this way for the rest of the journey as they were flown off to _New Days._

* * *

><p><strong>Wow... so that's it.<strong>

**Well, not really. There will be at least a two or three chapter epilogue that will show how things are about three months later. You'll get to see how everyone is doing, catch up on the healing and get your tender lemon. **

**Then, though it may be a bit, there will be a sequel "Into the Light" that will follow what happens once Misaki gets home and you can see what unfolds with his Uke Flu case. Hopefully I'll get at least one or two more chapters of the original Uke Flu done in between.**

**So, hopefully next update in a few days. Hope the reunion pleased you. Thank you all again for all the feedback! I love hearing from you.**


	36. Epilogue: Healing Part I

**Okay, so I know this will irritate my Romantica fans, but this chapter is constructed to provide you with information to catch you up on what's been happening since the rescue. But take heart, there is a huge dose of Akihiko/Misaki next chapter and I will post it very shortly… You have to wade through a bit to get to your blossom and bunny. The lemon will be in the third chapter and close the epilogue.**

* * *

><p><strong>Days Without Sun<strong>

**Epilogue: Healing Part I**

* * *

><p>The cameraman used a slow sweep to capture the scope of the lush interior.<p>

The video feed took in the ornamental chandeliers and marbled floors strewn with authentic Persian rugs. Exquisite orchids displayed their branched contortions in antique Asian vessels atop ornate mahogany stands. Interior fountains cascaded soothing down bronze panels that broke the surface of hand-painted walls. Here and there, artfully placed, were rich leather loveseats and comfortable looking chairs.

At last the camera panned to a handsome blonde woman with a close-cropped haircut. She was sharply dressed in a stylish pantsuit.

The picture swept up and landed in a close-up that brought emphasis to her piercing eyes and careful smile.

"This is Christian Flynn with an INN week-long, special series.

"I come to you from the plush lobby of the exclusive _New Days_ _Clinic_.

"For over three decades, the _New Days_ retreat in Garopaba, Brazil has been featured in magazines and tabloids as a place where the rich and famous have been able to find refuge from their personal demons: issues like addiction and mental exhaustion .

"And without fail, after their time here with _New Days_ mental health professionals, with the additional help of the clinic's top chefs, personal trainers, masseuses, and spa specialists, not to mention, more often than not, _New Days'_ skilled plastic surgeons; the elite have left looking far better than they ever did previously.

"Over the last three months _New Days_ has again found itself in the news.

"However, this time the clinic has been serving the needs of a group who have become the bearers of a far less glorious type of fame; the fortress-like exterior of these grounds offering privacy to a very different clientele.

"For the current residents of _New Days_, the demon that they have become here to wage battle against is far more monstrous than celebrity fatigue, drugs, or alcohol. And the kind of medical attention they have needed has well exceeded a mere 'makeover.'

"The demon in the case of the dozen residents now being served by this illustrious clinic is one who has become known throughout the world... His name is Vladimir Korovin.

"It is a name that has become synonymous with evil.

"Korovin is the diabolical "Doc," the "Surgeon Sadist," who, even now, sits in the most secure of Brazil's maximum security prisons, while fifteen different countries fight to extradite him so that he can be tried for the alleged crimes he's committed against their citizens.

"To date, over seventy five bodies… or parts of bodies, have been recovered from Korovin's multi-acre estate and investigators are still searching for more.

"As a result, all over the globe, parents whose sons have disappeared over the last several years on South American tours and vacations find themselves waiting breathlessly. While others have already had their worst fears confirmed.

"But it is here in Brazil that the death toll has been the highest. At current count, thirty Brazilian young men, most not yet out of their teens, lost their life to Korovin's twisted practices.

"Many of these were runaways or street youths, who, sadly, went unnoticed when they disappeared. But there were others like local Garopaba youth, Jadir Cavaco, whose parents had been frantically searching for their lost son.

"After more than two years of being brutally tormented by Jadir's kidnapper, a little less than three months ago his parents were at last able to lay their son to rest… or what was left of him… A single severed arm.

"It is believed, based on the evidence, that Jadir was mauled to death and consumed by the bloodthirsty dogs kept by Korovin on his estate, an end known to have been shared by at least four other of Korovin's captives.

"Given such horror it is hard to believe that Korovin could have dealt an even more diabolical fate to his victims and yet, sadly, it's true. Many of the bodies recovered from his estate showed signs of even more horrible methods of dispatch.

"Reports leaked from the morgue where the bodies of Korovin's victims were being held for examination made claims of terrible mutilations, genetic experimentation, grafting of animal parts and bizarre organ transplants, in addition to other forms of physical and sexual torture.

"There have even been rumors of the sadist /mad scientist subjecting his victims to unheard of biochemical agents.

"If even half of these claims are eventually shown to be true, it may seem to some that death for these young men might have been a mercy. But not all of Korovin's victims met their demise at his hands… Twelve of this madman's captives survived and it is they who now inhabit _New Days_.

"While the names of the dozen survivors have been known for weeks now, and information about their lives prior to their captivity has been teased out by the media, there is still little known about the true state of these young men or what they endured.

"Part of this is due to the pending court proceedings, but much of the silence has been kept by the strict security measures maintained by the new owner of the New Days, the multinational conglomerate Usami-Corps.

"If the company name sounds familiar, it should, Akihiko Usami, an internationally renowned author and heir to the president of Usami-Corps, made the headlines earlier this year when his young lover Misaki Takahashi went missing from a Garopaba beach.

"At the time of Takahashi's vanishing, Usami was at one point even considered a possible suspect in his lover's disappearance.

"Now Akihiko Usami has been vindicated, and is even being lauded as partly responsible for the discovery of Korovin's chamber of horrors.

"It was Usami who hired tenacious private detective and former police officer, Augusto Santo Justino to find his lover's abductor.

"Santo-Justino conducted a daring rescue operation into Korovin's estate with the assistance of a devoted team funded by Usami's vast wealth. It was a brave and, some say, reckless gamble that fortunately, in this instance, paid off, resulting in the capture of Korovin and the rescue of Misaki Takahashi and eleven other young men.

"During the early days of Takahashi's disappearance, President of the multi-billion dollar Usami-Corps and father of Akihiko Usami, Fuyuhiko Usami, remained silent and distanced himself from his son.

"This was seen by some as paternal confirmation of Akihiko Usami's guilt.

"To others it was interpreted as a cold and calculated business tactic, a desire to keep son and company separate, out of concerns that a blight on the Usami name would cause stock prices to fall.

"Whatever Fuyuhiko Usami's motives, however, since the capture of Vladimir Korovin and liberation of his prisoners, Usami-Corps has shown an unprecedented support for Korovin's former victims.

"It has been reported that Usami-Corp has paid almost billion dollars so far, purchasing the _New Days Clinic_ outright and offering the facility as a place of refuge and recovery for Korovin's victims. In addition to this, the company has also flown in the family and friends of these twelve young men and allowed them to stay here on these palatial grounds too, extending every amenity.

"Teams of specialized doctors and surgeons have been brought in to deal with the health issues suffered by the freed youths after their time in Korovin's cruel grasp. From around the world a crack team of mental health specialists was also assembled to assist the Doc's victims in overcoming their terrible traumas.

"Multiple modalities for healing, both psychological and spiritual, from Western talk therapy, to EMDR, to hikomi, to yoga and meditation have been made available to the twelve survivors here at the clinic.

"And once they leave here, as two of these young men will be doing within the next week, the first to be released... Usami-Corps has pledged to continue to provide for any medical or psychological treatment incurred by Korovin's former captives. This is in addition to a sizeable trust that has been established for each individual.

"These actions have put Usami-Corps in the spotlight around the globe.

"For many, this show of compassion, one that will affect lives across a span of nations, has been seen as an incredible act of corporate goodwill and the attempts of a father to reconcile with his son.

"For others, however, this action has been interpreted with far darker motives.

"Competitors of Usami-Corps say Fuyuhiko Usami's actions are an attempt to gain information about Korovin's unethical experiments, some of which will give Usami-Corps biomedical divisions a distinct advantage in developing technologies. Especially as the majority of the medical professionals now at New Days were already on the Usami-Corps payroll previously.

"Whatever the reason, these actions have caused the price of Usami-Corps stock to skyrocket, making it one of the most valuable companies in the world at present.

"In light of their competitors allegations, ones that amount amount to corporate piracy in the guise of aiding Korovin's former victims, I have been invited here to _New Days_ by Usami-Corps President, Fuyuhiko Usami himself, to conduct exclusive interviews over the next week… Not only with President Usami, but also with a number of the doctors and therapists that have been working here.

"While the healthcare professionals I'll be interviewing, for reasons of patient confidentiality, will not provide names or specific details about their current clients, they have agreed to discuss the general issues that Korovin's victims face and what these survivors will continue to deal with in the process of their healing. They will also offer some insight into the types of medical conditions that they have been treating.

"I will also be speaking with Dr. Erik Himmel, a specialist in hostage crisis and Stockholm syndrome. He will clearly outline some of the tactics allegedly employed by Korovin and the relationship dynamics that played out between the Doc and his captives.

"I hope you'll join me tomorrow for the first interview in this "New Days" series: an exploration of terror, trauma, hope, and healing."

* * *

><p>"Excellent, Flynn, that's a wrap."<p>

"Thank God!" Flynn unclipped her lapel microphone and handed it to a waiting technician. She nodded to her director.

"Look, Jose, I'll be back in five." The reporter didn't wait for an answer before she headed to a corner of the lobby where she'd noted Aikawa hovering, watching her intro.

Aikawa smiled brightly at Flynn's approach. "That was great Flynn-san, you're a natural."

"Urgh…" Flynn sighed. "Honestly, I much rather be out in the field."

"Yes, but this is such a great opportunity, working for Independent." Aikawa dropped back into the nearby hall away from the cameras. She'd had more than enough of the news over the last few months. "I still can't believe all the job offers you got from one story."

Flynn followed her and they were soon headed down a quiet corridor.

"But what a story it was…" She smiled until she noted Aikawa's serious expression. "Still is…" Flynn corrected, knowing that Korovin's legacy was far from finished.

She scrambled to change the subject.

"I'm sorry that we haven't been able to get together recently, it seems like it's been weeks since we last had a chance to see each other."

"It has been… But I know you've been busy with your new job and all." Aikawa's eyes shone sympathetically.

"You know, I imagine you could have increased the number of authors in you stable tenfold, if they knew you'd been part of it."

Aikawa smiled a bit at this and shook her head. "No… Sensei asked me to keep both his and my participation in what happened quiet and I intend to honor his request. It's not the kind of fame either of us wants.

"Besides, just being his editor has brought me more press than I have a taste for… And after what I went through for him… Well, do you honestly think I'd want to take on any more authors right now? They might expect the same treatment."

Flynn laughed. Then her expression shifted and she gave Aikawa a sly look.

"You know, Aikawa… I think the real reason that you don't want to take on any more authors is that you've been having too good a time with S.J. and don't want work to interfere with your love life right now."

A bright blush filled Aikawa's cheeks at Flynn's words.

It was true that she had taken some time after the rescue to regroup and Augusto had been a wonderful and supportive part of this time. They had grown quite a bit closer in the three months she had remained in Brazil to help Usami-sensei.

"So where is S.J.? I can't imagine he's too far away."

Aikawa dipped her head avoiding Flynn's probing gaze. "Oh, he's wandering around here somewhere. You know how restless he is."

"Apparently not too restless…"

Aikawa looked up in surprise at Flynn's words.

"Don't think my keen eye didn't notice…"

Aikawa stopped and she gasped as the reporter lightly took her hand. Flynn turned Aikawa's fingers and the white gold band on her ring-finger shone brightly, set off by the ornamental lights overhead.

"So… that was fast…" Flynn cocked one of her sculpted brows.

Aikawa flushed deeper. "Well, Augusto said after what happened_ life is too short to waste in indecision_."

"And you?"

The intensity of Flynn's gaze slightly unnerved Aikawa; she allowed a nervous laugh. "Well, Flynn-san, when you know as many gay men as I do and you find a good straight one…"

Flynn studied Aikawa carefully a moment before laughing. She released the editor's hand. "Speaking of your posse, how are Usami and Misaki doing?"

Aikawa's eyes grew solemn at the question. "Is this off the record?"

"Of course it is!" Flynn's tone was indignant.

"Sorry, Flynn." Aikawa dipped her head.

Once again Flynn took her hand, this time in assurance.

"It's going to be so hard for them… Misaki is so broken, even with all the help he's getting… and Sensei…

"I had no idea what that fiend did to him. He was so sick for so long. Even now the doctors aren't sure what the lasting effects will be."

"Did they ever determine what it was exactly in that injection Korovin gave him?" Flynn strove to keep her tone from sounding too curious, she didn't want Aikawa to shut down and shy away from talking with her.

Aikawa's auburn head shook a sad 'negative.'

"From what I understand, that horrible animal has hardly said two words since he regained consciousness. And almost everything they've found in his lab was encrypted.

But, from what the doctors here have been able to ascertain, it was a whole mix of things, I guess… Drugs, some brand new toxin, something like a virus too, maybe. Poor Sensei's bloodwork is still coming back abnormal, even after two months on dialysis."

"But he's doing better?" Flynn's eyes reflected her genuine concern for this man she'd never met.

"Yes." Lifting her free hand, Aikawa brushed a lone tear from the corner of her eye. "He's so much stronger, but I worry. He lives now only for Misaki it seems and he taxes himself too much trying to keep him safe. Sensei hasn't even told Misaki what happened to him yet."

"Maybe that's for the best right now."

Aikawa nodded. She felt tears begin to well in her eyes again. _They're both so fragile and each trying to be so strong for the other._

"After all, if Misaki is still regressed…" Flynn trailed off.

"Oh, no… He's come out of that now, thank Kami-sama!"

The memory of Misaki reduced in actions and understanding to that of about a five year-old child was still so fresh in Aikawa's memory. It had happened without warning, three weeks into Misaki's stay at New Days. Not long after he'd had his ankle surgery: his bones had needed to be broken again and re-set if he was to ever walk again without pain.

Akihiko had just returned to the world at the time. After hovering near death for almost two-weeks, he had rallied and had cared for Misaki like he would his own child, showing more patience and compassion, however, than he'd ever been granted growing up. But even with Akihiko's tender care the "child Misaki" had been one of terrors and hysterical outbursts and Usami had almost relapsed, incredibly strained in his attempts to comfort his wounded, regressed lover.

"Dr. Omari was able to do some amazing work with the EMDR. It's been incredible but there's just so much to heal from… for both of them."

Flynn nodded. She'd heard wonderful things about Omari and was looking forward to interviewing him.

"and what of the others?"

Aikawa shook her head. "I am afraid I haven't much to report there. You know Usami-sensei and Misaki have their own floor. Outside of his groups, Misaki doesn't have much to do with the others and I have only glimpsed one or two of them, truthfully."

A small shudder trembled Aikawa as she recalled what she'd seen.

"My guess is they're doing the best that they can, given what they've been through. I do know they're getting some of the best help in the world."

Flynn nodded at this. Then she looked carefully at Aikawa.

"And how about you, Eri? How are you holding up… Truthfully."

Aikawa's eyes widened at the address as well as the earnestness in Flynn's tone. She looked down and gently pulled her hand away. She twisted Augusto's ring nervously around her finger.

"I'm… I'm fine." She looked back up into Flynn's intense gaze. "I'll be glad to return to Japan next week.

"It will be good to get back to my old life, as much as I can… Get back to work with my other authors, make a few books happen.

"I'll miss Augusto, but he'll be coming to Japan in two months. And you have to promise to come see me whenever you're in Tokyo covering a story."

"Still playing it strong… You're an amazing woman, Eri… Beauty and balls…"

Aikawa was overwhelmed by the seriousness in Flynn's eyes as well as her voice. She was even more taken aback however, when Flynn suddenly stepped closer and gently took her jaw in hand. The reporter leaned in before Aikawa fully understood what was happening she felt soft lips pressed against her own.

Despite her discomfort, Aikawa didn't flinch away: Flynn's kiss was extremely tender and she found a strange comfort in this touch.

Flynn broke their kiss and stepped back, her own cheeks flushed just as bright as Aikawa's now. " As S.J. says, life is too short not to take action. He's a very lucky man.

"I wish you both the best, but if things don't work out and you feel like hopping the fence let me know." Flynn offered Aikawa a wink but her expression after this light action was far more serious.

"Hey Flynn, the director wants you!"

"I'm on my way!" Flynn gave Aikawa one last smile. See you around Eri, and tell your Mr. Usami, I'm still holding him to that exclusive… When's he up to it. Though I hope he's much less of a bastard in an interview than his old man." With that the reporter turned and headed off down the hall.

Aikawa looked after her with a stunned expression for several minutes before turning herself and beginning towards the elevator that would take her to Usami-sensei's floor.

* * *

><p><strong>So that's it for part one. Will have part two out this weekend sometime. <strong>

**And my dear readers, I thank you. Your feedback on the last chapter was so wonderful and fulfilling. You make these stories worth writing.**


	37. Epilogue: Healing Part II

**Days Without Sun**

**Epilogue: Healing Part II**

* * *

><p>The French doors to the balcony were open and a warm afternoon breeze swept the fragrance of blooms from the garden below into the bright expanse of Misaki's suite.<p>

In addition to the natural light coming in numerous large windows, the overheads were on too. They had rarely been off since Misaki had been settled here and never at night.

Beyond the comfortable sitting area, in the room's double-sized bed, Akihiko and Misaki were entwined together amidst soft, white sheets.

Akihiko was reading. He lay on his side with one arm stretched out, half beneath his pillow; a novel loosely clasped in his hand. Misaki was curled into him, his forehead, now lush with tousled brown locks, rested against his chest. Akihiko's other arm was draped over Misaki's shoulder; the long fingers of this hand moved only occasionally to flick to a new page.

Sighing, Akihiko closed weary eyes and allowed the book to fall from his fingers.

It had been another very long night. Not as bad as some… thankfully. _But still…_

Pale eyes opened again and Akihiko lifted his head slightly. His gaze swept over his beloved's features. As always, he felt his heart filled with a multitude of emotions.

Misaki's skin had regained some of its color, helped by the short walks Akihiko coaxed him into out on the grounds now his second set of casts were off, and from the snatches of time they caught out on the balcony.

It still perplexed Akihiko somewhat that, rather than cherish open spaces, now finally freed from his imprisonment, Misaki seemed terrified of them. He would only venture out when accompanied by someone he trusted and even in this he was often reluctant.

This condition, Akihiko had learned, was called "agoraphobia."

He'd been made to understand just recently that this fear of Misaki's was triggered in no small part by his initial abduction from the beach and the complex neurological changes wrought by his time as Korovin's captive. This was just part of an unfortunately vast amount of new information he'd come by of late.

He eyed his slumbering angel sadly.

Akihiko recalled a time past when he'd told Misaki that he wanted to lock him away. There was a bitter irony in this memory now that Misaki was all but glued to his side and his task at present was to set him free, to force him gradually back into the world.

Looking down at his boy, fitfully sleeping, Akihiko was determined to be as kind in this as was possible, patient too, and to help Misaki in any way he could. Although he already knew it was going to be excruciating for both of them.

Studying the sweet face below him, Akihiko longed to reach out and stroke Misaki's cheek but he refrained: Misaki could still be easily set off by unexpected touches, particularly when he slept.

_At least his night terrors have decreased._

It had been two days since Misaki's last EMDR session and two nights without him waking up screaming. Akihiko wished Dr. Omari would do the sessions more often, they helped so much, but then he recalled how terribly wrung out Misaki had been when he'd returned from his last one.

He'd heard reports after the fact, that his poor boy had wailed almost throughout the entire two hour treatment. As a result, Misaki's voice was still little more than a whisper at present.

No, they both needed the breaks in between. Besides, it wasn't as if Misaki didn't have other therapies to fill his days, not to mention physical therapy for his legs, and his group sessions with the other surrvivors.

Akihiko felt a flare of ache in his bones and grunted softly. He carefully shifted stiff limbs, hoping not to rouse his drowsing partner.

While Misaki was away with all of these "appointments," he was getting various treatments himself. Akihiko wondered how long Misaki would continue to believe that the port in his arm was for the "vitamins" his "stupid Usagi" needed after taking such poor care of himself while he was gone.

A soft noise escaped Misaki and Akihiko watched his lover's face intently. It was still too thin, in his opinion. Not that he had much room to talk: he had little appetite these days and the last time he'd been so angular, he'd been in his teens.

Dark lashes quivered and beneath blue-veined lids Akihiko saw Misaki's eyes begin to move rapidly as his dreams picked up speed. He stiffened and waited until Misaki began to whimper, before at last intervening.

"Mi-chan…"

Akihiko hummed the name like a lullaby. He'd begun using the appellation when Misaki's mind had rebelled against all that had happened and returned him to a place of innocence.

In his sleep, Misaki's long-fingered hands found the edge of Usagi-san's open shirt and latched on. A muffled sob rose in his throat.

"It's okay, Mi. You're safe now… No one is going to hurt you…"

Beside Akihiko, Misaki's body quivered.

Then with a jolt, his lean frame suddenly stiffened and Misaki drew a gasping breath. Green eyes shot open, but remained unseeing, Misaki's mind still caught in his dream. Noting the terror in the gaze that met his, Akihiko drew back slightly, not wanting Misaki to feel constricted.

"Misaki, I'm right here." There were no babying tones in Akihiko's voice now, just a strong quiet statement of fact.

Misaki's dilated pupils retracted slightly and Akihiko watched as his beloved returned to him; recognition dawning slowly in the green gaze. Tears welled immediately in these newly-wakened eyes and Akihiko, knowing it was safe now, slowly brought a hand forward and, with a single finger, brushed them away.

"Usagi-san!"

Misaki barked out hoarsely and then pressed forward, wrapping thin arms around Usagi-san and pulling to him. He buried his head into the broad chest before him, using it to muffle his sobs. Wrapping his own arms around Misaki more tightly, Akihiko gathered him in. He curved his chin protectively over Misaki's dark head and made soothing, nonsense noises like his nanny had when he was a boy. His fingers stroked Misaki's hair until at last the thin body trembling in his arms stilled.

Once Misaki's shaking and sobbing subsided, Akihiko pulled back ever so slightly and pressed a soft kiss to the dream-damp forehead. He allowed his lips to rest there until Misaki finally shifted and looked up.

"Another nightmare, Love?"

Love was another pet name he'd given his "child Misaki," and his returned "adult Misaki" hadn't protested it yet, so it had endured.

Misaki sniffled and looked down. Cheeks pinking, he nodded.

"Want to talk about it?"

A dark head shook out a weary "no."

Akihiko gently caught the edge of Misaki's jaw and lifted his face. He planted a gentle kiss on soft lips. He was delighted when Misaki didn't stiffen at all, but responded. This one kiss became two, and then three.

There was no tongue, no vying for dominance here, just soft seeking and succor shared in silence.

After a few more lingering kisses, they broke apart.

Misaki brought his damaged hand to his eyes and wiped out any remaining traces of tears. Both he and Akihiko then stretched; each wincing at his own collection of aches. Neither was quite ready to leave the sanctuary of their bed, so they settled again after a few moments.

A warm finger touched his bare chest and Akihiko looked down. Misaki kept his eyes averted, though he knew he was being watched. He absently traced the raised, pink scar over Usagi-san's heart, the act oddly soothed him.

Akihiko closed his eyes and allowed the sensation of Misaki's soft touch to wash over him; a new wave of exhaustion followed.

"You know, Misaki, I almost forgot… Takahiro called this morning while you were at your PT. He asked again if you might be ready for him to come see you." He drew a deep breath when, at his words, Misaki's tracing finger halted its movement.

"But…

"W-we'll be going back to Japan soon. R-right, Usagi-san?" Misaki's voice was hoarse and low.

"Yes, Mi, in another few weeks we're going home… to _our_ home. If you think you're ready."

Akihiko offered this slowly. He wanted to make sure that Misaki understood they would be staying together. He was also following the advice of the mental health team overseeing Misaki's case and wanted to offer him the opportunity to make some of his own choices.

"I…" Misaki trailed off. "I don't want Nii-chan to go to all that trouble… N-not when it will be so much easier for him to see me once I get back."

Akihiko knew that Takahiro would have been on a plane in an instant, but they had talked and both agreed that it was important that Misaki see him when he was ready. Dr. Himmel had spoken extensively with Takahiro, making it clear that Misaki had no feelings that what had happened to him was his fault.

It was more that Misaki felt so much shame over his multiple violations that it was hard for him to consider facing his brother. More than anything, Misaki somehow blamed himself for what he'd been through and felt that he'd let his Nii-chan down.

He was also terrified that Takahiro might try and make him to leave his Usagi-san again.

"Okay, I'll let him know that when I speak to him next." Akihiko didn't press: this was the first time Misaki had responded to Takahiro's request for a visit without breaking down.

The finger on Akihiko's chest began slowly tracing once more; the sensation was stirring. Akihiko slowly moved one of his hands and laid it gently over the wrist of the long-sleeved shirt Misaki was wearing.

Misaki stilled his hand again. He looked up at Usagi-san, his large eyes were filled with apprehension. The timidity in his gaze made Akihiko's heart clench.

"I think it's almost time for your afternoon small group. Why don't you go wash your face and run a comb through that wild mane of yours?"

In the past it would have been Misaki making such a recommendation to Usagi-san, but things had shifted between them now. This shift was also evidenced in the fact Misaki didn't become indignant at Usagi-san's words, but instead merely blushed and silently nodded. A moment later he was up and the water was running in the suite's bathroom, the door pulled, but not closed entirely.

Once Misaki had moved out of sight, Akihiko rose slowly. His pain was worse than it had been for several days and he wanted to get up and shake out some of his stiffness without Misaki's acute eyes observing him.

He was fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when a soft knock at the door caught his attention. Akihiko limped over and opened it to find two pairs of intense black eyes staring at him.

"Jadir, Santo-Justino," Akihiko stepped back with a slight bow.

Jadir dropped his head blushing and behind him Santo Justino nodded.

"Come in please."

Santo Justino pushed Jadir's wheelchair into the suite. "I think your next door neighbor was getting tired of me. Jadir said he'd like to come see Misaki."

Jadir blushed redder at the detective's words.

Santo Justino had long forgiven Jadir for faking the seizure that allowed Usami to stab Korovin. Given what the youth had endured, if anything, it was amazing to Augusto that the boy didn't hate him for saving Korovin's despicable hide.

Since the rescue, he had become a regular visitor for Jadir… the boy's only visitor. Currently on leave from his practice, when not with Aikawa, he sometimes spent hours a day keeping Jadir company.

"No, it's time for their shared group, I think. Am I right, Jadir?"

Jadir nodded at Akihiko in agreement.

"Ahhhh… I see… Glad to know I wasn't just being ditched." Santo Justino laughed lightly.

"And how are your other treatments going, Jadir? You look like you're bouncing back quickly from that last surgery. Every time I see you, you're looking more fit."

Jadir remained silent to Usami's inquiry, but then again he still rarely spoke. He lifted his arms, however, and Usami immediately noticed the complete looking hands extending from the ends of the long-sleeved hoodie he wore.

Lavender eyes watched and a pleased smile pulled the corners of Akihiko's mouth as the fingers on both hands wiggled and then clenched and unclenched in a motion that seemed just shy of natural.

"That's wonderful, Jadir. I had been told that Dr. Krantz was the world's best in prosthesis, but these look amazing."

"Yes, but it's not just the look," Santo Justino interjected. "Krantz told Jadir that he'd never had anyone adapt so quickly to using the neurological sensors and that he'd never seen anyone able to manage moving the fingers on two hands simultaneously." The detective's voice had the ring of a proud father to it.

"Well you and I both know that Jadir is a remarkable young man." Akihiko looked solemnly at Jadir as he offered this rare praise.

Jadir's dark eyes and his hands dropped to his lap, suddenly shy: while he'd always been humble in nature, after his experience with Korovin kind words were especially difficult for him to process.

"Misaki's getting spruced up a bit, I'll just go fetch him." Akihiko understood how easily the _New Days'_ boys could get overwhelmed and didn't want to embarrass Jadir further. He addressed Santo Justino.

"Maybe you'd like to take Jadir out on the balcony? There's a pleasant breeze this afternoon."

The detective nodded but looked down for affirmation. After receiving the barest of nods from Jadir, he took up the back of Jadir's chair again and began wheeling him that direction.

* * *

><p>In the bathroom Misaki was looking down at white knuckles gripping the edge of the marbled counter. He'd heard a new voice in the apartment and even though Usagi-san's tone indicated the newcomer was a friend, until he recognized Santo Justino's particular timbre, he'd been seized with a terrible panic.<p>

Misaki knew what these episodes were now, but still that didn't make them any less frightening. In the midst of a panic attack, with his heart pounding, the feeling of an invisible iron-hand squeezing all the breath from his lungs, it was so hard to convince himself that he wasn't in danger.

Inhaling as deeply as he could, Misaki tried to focus on counting. He'd been taught a sequence of holding and releasing his breath that would lower his heart rate and arrest the panic response. In the midst of his next breath he raised his head.

As always now, he was shocked with the image that greeted him in the mirror: Misaki hardly recognized himself anymore. His hair was getting back to its old length and his cheeks were no longer so terribly sunken, but his own eyes haunted him and he wondered if they'd always look this way from now on.

Gazing into the mirror his memory sparked and suddenly he was back in Korovin's dungeon; his captor forcing him to look at himself in the mirror after he'd tried to run away. Misaki flashed on his shaved head, bloody with all the cruel words Korovin's scalpel had inscribed there.

His damaged hand drifted to the hem of the overlarge shirt he wore and he lifted it. While his hair covered the scars on his head, the ones on his torso gleamed bright pink still. Korovin had written half the text in reverse on his flesh, so that in the mirror the words could easily be read. They were horrible...

_And true._

A wave of disgust washed over Misaki at what he'd become. He was a freak… broken… disfigured... He'd never understood what beauty it was he might have possessed before, though Usagi-san mentioned it often. But now…

_I'm so hideous… a monster. How can Usagi-san even look at me._

He felt awful for all Usagi-san was going through to try and help him. He knew too, that while Usagi-san hadn't said anything, something had happened to his Rabbit while he was gone and the man was still suffering from it.

_All this trouble… I'm not worth it._

This made all the recent burning he'd felt for fleshly contact all that much more terrible. Misaki couldn't understand what had come over him recently, but more than anything he wanted Usagi-san to take him. He craved feeling his lover inside him. He wanted his hollowness filled.

_I'm so sordid._

The surety of this only made Misaki's chest tighter. He felt his knees buckle and sank down to the floor.

He looked up when a soft tap sounded on the door. A moment later it slowly pushed farther open and Usagi-san's worried eyes found his.

Misaki dropped his head, terribly ashamed to be seen so reduced, yet again. He wanted to push Usagi-san away when the man dropped to his knees and wrapped strong arms around him, but he couldn't. He needed Usagi-san so much. He hated his weakness.

Within the enveloping comfort of Usagi-san's arms a sudden irrational thought popped into his head, that maybe this was just a dream… and in a minute he'd wake up again in a sightless cell.

This brought on a new wave of panic.

Akihiko knew he was taking a risk, embracing Misaki without warning, but his beloved had looked so lost when he found him he couldn't bear it. Within his arms he could feel Misaki's chest hitching, his ears caught the labor of Misaki's breath. He knew immediately that his Blossom was caught in another one of his attacks.

Shifting his position, Akihiko soon had it so that he was behind Misaki, his panicking partner seated between his splayed thighs. He pulled Misaki's back against his chest and once he was sure Misaki would stay, Akihiko stretched his arms straight out on either side.

"Misaki, can you hear me?"

In front of him the dark head nodded.

"I want you to put your hands on top of mine. Okay?'

Misaki had wrapped his arms tight around himself and the idea of unfurling made him sob. Behind him Akihiko frowned: when Misaki made himself small like this it usually meant Korovin had somehow taken hold of him again. Considering this possibility he decided to try a new tactic.

"Remember what Dr. Patel taught you, Misaki? I want you to try that. Remember how simple it is… just hold your left fist closed. At the same time open and close your right one."

Dr. Patel had been using hakomi with Misaki. Akihiko had been able to attend a few sessions and was amazed at how much could be accomplished with the small body movements Dr. Patel asked Misaki to perform as they moved through their sessions.

"The closed fist is the past; your flexing fist is the present…" Akihiko mirrored Patel's words as he felt Misaki begin to make small pulses with his right hand. It seemed such an easy thing, but in the first session it had taken over half an hour for the doctor to verbally walk Misaki to a place where the fingers on his right hand had even begin to relax at all.

"Where are you Misaki?"

Misaki couldn't bring himself to speak, but his right hand opened a bit more as he flexed.

"You have the choice Misaki, to be the closed hand or the open one."

These words pulled another sob from Misaki and he splayed his right hand out wide before clenching it again.

Lavender eyes watched as the motion of Misaki's right hand became more fluid. When he saw Misaki was having little trouble with the movements now, he cleared his throat softly. "Now... Can you open your left hand Misaki?"

He felt Misaki tense at the question.

"Keep going with your right hand, Love. And don't worry, there's no hurry here." Akihiko waited patiently and a breath of relief escaped him when he saw the fingers on Misaki's left hand finally twitch.

"See, Misaki, you're here in the present. You're resilient and strong. Open, not closed."

With a few more minutes of gentle coaching, Misaki had unwrapped himself and one of his smaller hands was wrapped around a closed fist at the end of each of Usagi-san's extended arms.

"You know what to do, Mi?"

Misaki nodded. He leaned back into Usagi-san's chest and tightened the muscles of his forearms, his hands pulled back against the closed fists beneath them. He held this small tense for a moment and then released and immediately began to feel his shoulders unlock. After a few more pulls his chest opened up and Misaki felt his lungs able to draw in much deeper breaths. The increased oxygen flooded his system and he felt his anxiety level begin to drop. When it became bearable he released Usagi-san's hands and scooted forward.

Misaki pushed himself up on shaky legs. He kept his head down, fearful of catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror and starting the whole vicious cycle all over again. He felt Usagi-san rise behind him.

"Misaki?"

Usagi-san's rich voice held so much concern. Risking a glance up in the mirror, Misaki saw his beloved Rabbit's solemn, drawn face. He couldn't bear it. He found his hands once again tensed around the edge of the vanity's marble top.

"You'd be better off without me, Usagi-san… I'm such a burden now." He hadn't intended say this, but the words had been held on his tongue, burning it for weeks. Misaki fought not to cringe when he felt large cool hands on his shoulders.

Akihiko turned Misaki around and one had slipped under his boy's jaw, pulling the dark head that had dropped, back up. Misaki's eye's widened when he saw the amethyst fire in Usagi-san's gaze.

"Don't…" Akihiko choked on this first word, he was so filled with emotion.

"Don't you ever say that, Misaki. You are not a burden, you are my love and you always will be. I am nothing without you. Understand?" Akihiko's hand dropped from Misaki's chin to his beloved's scarred chest and settled there lightly.

"This is where my heart beats. Only here."

Misaki's eyes filled with new tears at these words, he whispered, "But why? Why would you…

Akihiko leaned down and stopped the question with a gentle kiss.

Their lips parted briefly.

"Please, please, Misaki… for right now, please don't question… just accept it? I need this… I need you."

There was no doubt in Misaki's mind, hearing Usagi-san's tone that what he meant what he said: his voice was raw with the truth of it. The knowledge of his lover's need filled Misaki.

_I have to try and get better for Usagi-san. No... I will. _

Misaki felt this resolve shoot through him like a current, energizing him. He met Usagi-san's lips with conviction when his Rabbit kissed him again. Their oral embrace deepened and became quietly frantic. They feasted on each other's lips like men starving.

Finally, Akihiko pulled back. Misaki found himself leaning forward, desperately needing more touch. He felt fevered. Akihiko studied Misaki, his face still but his eyes danced between pleasure and concern.

Misaki dropped his gaze and blushed, seeing his baggy, cotton loungers tented in the front. His cheeks grew redder when his eyes flickered over and he caught Usagi-san adjusting his own arousal.

Akihiko cleared his throat. He wanted Misaki so badly, to make love to him, but this was hardly the time or place, and beyond this he felt it was still much too early in his beloved's healing to attempt such an act.

"Jadir-kun is here. Santo-Justino-san brought him down. You two were going to meet Dr. Himmel in a new room for group today… Right?"

"Y- yes…"

Misaki hadn't been very excited about going into a strange space, but he took comfort in the fact Jadir would be with him. He knew too that Jadir was probably glad to be getting out of his room at last. He'd been confined to his bed for months while they'd waited for the specialized surgeon who'd finally arrived and two weeks ago removed the tumorous growth that Korovin had planted inside him.

Leaning forward Akihiko pressed a chaste kiss to Misaki's brow. Misaki's forehead furrowed as even this innocuous touch sent new blood to his nethers.

"I'll let Jadir know you'll be out in a minute, after you get a bit more _composed_."

Akihiko tried to keep the desire in his gaze in check as he nodded at Misaki's erection. Misaki, however, caught it anyway and it sent a light shiver through him that wasn't unpleasant. He watched Usagi-san slip out the door. The moment he was gone, Misaki reached beneath the band of his loungers and took hold of himself.

It was the first time he'd touched himself in this way, of his own accord, since he'd been taken. Misaki pushed aside all the confusion that his sudden desires stirred and in the two minutes it took him to come; he pretended that his heated palm was instead Usagi-san's cool one.

* * *

><p><strong>For some reason this story just doesn't seem to want to let itself end. This chapter ended up way longer than I had intended, but I wanted to show a glimpse of some of what Misaki is dealing with after so many readers asked about his treatments. And if I seem like a big proponent of EMDR and hakomi for healing trauma, it comes from my own experience of these healing modalities.<br>**

**And yes, Jadir is alive. I'd planned for Akihiko and Santo-Justino to have a brief conversation when Misaki and Jadir left that would explain what's going on, but that will have to wait for the next chapter. *sigh  
><strong>

**To answer a few questions posed in past reviews... for those of you who read the Uke Flu, you know that it take three months from the time of infection for the Flu to make the physiological changes in the male body that make it ready for impregnation and when the host is fertile his sexual appetite is extremely heightened… so, given our timeline Misaki in feeling his Flu fertility now.**

**And as to what Akihiko has been injected with... Well you are going to have to wait all the way to the Uke Flu to find that out.**

**Last, but far from least...**

**Thank you so much for all the amazing feedback on that last chapter. I was really surprised to get so much response, considering it was largely an OC chapter. It made me extremely happy. Hope you found this installment even more pleasing.**

**I am still going to try and hold myself to the next chapter being the last and the lemon, but we'll see. One way or the other I'll get there. It just may be a hell of a long chapter.**


	38. Epilogue: Healing Part III

**Days Without Sun**

**Epilogue: Part III: Healing**

* * *

><p>Akihiko left Misaki and joined Santo Justino and Jadir out on the balcony.<p>

Given the nature of New Day's clientele, every balcony in the clinic was enclosed with privacy blinds so that the gardens below could be enjoyed without unwanted observation. The spacious, terracotta-tiled ledge was also adorned with a number of potted topiary, a few chaise lounges, and a small ornate ironwork table with matching chairs.

Smoke curled up from the cigarette held in Santo Justino's fingers as he sat at the table. Jadir, in his wheelchair, was off a ways near the balcony's low, walled perimeter. He had his eyes closed and seemed to be lost in the feeling of the faint wind on his skin as it slipped through the slatted curtains.

Both Jadir and Santo Justino looked up at Akihiko's entrance, but neither said anything.

Though the detective had been spending numerous hours with Jadir, there were actually not many words shared between them. It was the same when Santo Justino accompanied Aikawa on her visits to Akihiko or Misaki, although Aikawa usually filled the space so that it was hardly noticeable. Akihiko too had been generally silent when he'd gone with Misaki to see Jadir while the Brazilian youth was still bedridden.

Perhaps it was the secrets shared between the three men that engendered this quiet; however, the silence was not uncomfortable.

Akihiko pulled out a chair and sat down across from Santo Justino at the table. Wordlessly Santo Justino pushed his pack over; after hesitating a moment, Akihiko pulled out a fag.

Their therapist had recommended against trying to quit right now, given all that he and Misaki were working through.

In addition to joint sessions with Misaki, Akihiko was seeing an individual counselor too in an attempt to relieve the recurring nightmares he had featuring Korovin. He had been reluctant to do so at first, but found it was also helping him sort through the complex feelings the arose as he walked with Misaki in his healing. There were things he needed to process but that he didn't want to bring up in their shared sessions, not as fragile as his boy was.

Seeing Usami lift the cigarette to his lips, Santo Justino passed his lighter over as well.

Pulling a deep drag, Akihiko coughed lightly. His brain rejoiced in the nicotine, but his lungs were still somewhat affected by whatever it was that Korovin had cursed him with. Turning his head to the side, Akihiko's eyes fell on Jadir and he noted the way the boy was looking longingly at the smoke.

"You smoke, Jadir?"

Jadir dropped his eyes and a blush filled his cheeks, embarrassed to be so clearly seen.

"I- I used to…"

Jadir's halting words caused Santo Justino to look over at him in surprise. He'd been like a chimney around the teen whenever they went out on Jadir's terrace and the boy had never said anything. "Kind of young for such a bad habit…" Even as the detective said this, however, he pointed to his pack and nodded at Jadir in offering.

Jadir nodded back and Santo Justino rose and moved the wheelchair over to the table.

After setting his false hand over the pack to hold it, Jadir extended his real hand and out pulled a cigarette. The operation was clumsy as he was still learning to use his prosthetics. Rather than offer assistance, both Akihiko and Augusto looked away, giving the boy some modicum of privacy in his struggle.

Jadir put the cigarette between his lips and picked up the lighter with his good hand. He flicked the flame, but rather than light up, he simply watched it dance in the lazy breeze. He set the lighter back down on the table and, a moment later, the unlit fag joined it.

Santo Justino looked at Jadir with a cautious curiosity. Like all Korovin's victims there was no telling what unexpected stimulus might trigger a flashback or worse, some sort of psychological break.

"Change your mind?"

Jadir's dark eyes met the detective's and Santo Justino was relieved to see that while they carried the faint light of fear that seemed ever-present, they were otherwise clear. Jadir nodded and looked away.

"I'm thinking I shouldn't start again… It wouldn't be good for…"

"Ah, here he comes! Look who's here, Misaki!"

Even though they had been holding their conversation in Portuguese, at Usami's over-bright hail Jadir left off speaking. His eyes lit up seeing Misaki step out onto the balcony. The limp in Misaki's steps from his healed ankles was barely noticeable.

Misaki had gathered himself; there was no evidence of his recent tears on his face although his eyes were still slightly red. He nodded at Usagi-san and then greeted Santo Justino shyly. His welcome for Jadir however, was much livelier.

"J-jadir, l-look at you! N-new hands!" Misaki stuttered slightly in his English pronunciation and was still embarrassed by his accent but, as Jadir didn't speak Japanese and his own Portuguese was still almost nonexistent, now that they could freely speak to each other, it had become their compromise. Fortunately Misaki was more comfortable around Jadir than most, so his self-consciousness usually dissipated relatively quickly and with this most of his verbal stumbling.

Rather than blush, Jadir smiled and proudly displayed his additions for Misaki to see. Misaki stepped over around the table and set his fingers on Jadir's false hand. He gave a little yelp when the fingers twitched and took light hold of his own.

"Too hard?" Jadir's heavily-accented voice held concern. He was still having difficulty with some of the sensors and knowing how much pressure he was exerting.

Misaki blushed. "No… n-not at all." He laughed softly, "B-but they move."

Looking up, Jadir offered "neural sensors" as if these two words explained everything. Misaki was the only person Jadir made eye contact with when he spoke and he waited expectantly for a response.

Misaki rubbed the back of his dark head and nodded. His English had improved quite a bit since Usagi-san had first started tutoring him but he still struggled sometimes with vocabulary.

"Neat."

His expression, however, revealed that he didn't really understand and this made Jadir laugh.

"Maybe Jadir can explain it further on your way to your session. You're going to be late if you don't get going."

"Okay, Usagi-san."

Misaki's gaze shifted from Jadir. He caught sight of the cigarette clasped between Usagi-san's fingers and his eyes grew soft. As much as the habit it had previously annoyed him he had agreed with their therapist that Usagi-san should be allowed a few vices at present. Besides, he now found the scent of the cigarettes somehow soothing.

"Can you d-drive those wheels, Jadir?"

Jadir smiled at Misaki and shook his head "no." "But Dr. Fletcher in PT says I won't need them in another week."

"Guess, I better p-push you around while I can." The two teens shared a grin at the joke and Misaki stepped over behind Jadir so he could wheel him down to their meeting.

"So soon you'll be walking, Jadir... M-maybe we can go to the garden… if Usagi-san and I are still here." Misaki pulled the wheelchair back from the table.

"I'm happy that they were able to get the out tumor too. It was so b-big."

Jadir had bowed his head at the mention of his "tumor." But lifted it again when Misaki set a gentle hand on his shoulder. He offered Misaki a sweet, sad smile.

Akihiko had been watching the exchange with a solemn expression. He owed Misaki's life in no small part to Jadir's brave and unselfish actions, but even so, knowing what he did, the rapport between the two boys made him uneasy.

Looking at Misaki and seeing his lover's first real smile of the day, Akihiko's brow creased. He shifted his gaze and found Jadir watching him. Jadir quickly dropped his eyes, but Akihiko knew the boy was extremely perceptive and had read him.

He felt a pang of guilt.

"No hot rodding in the halls, you two!" Santo Justino called out after the boys as Misaki pushed Jadir into the apartment. He chuckled when his admonition was met with twin groans.

* * *

><p>When the two teens had gone, the silence resumed.<p>

Santo Justino reached the end of his cigarette and ground the butt out in a decorative ashtray that graced the center of the table. He sat quietly watching as Akihiko continued to smoke.

When Usami was in the hallway of Korovin's lair with him, awaiting the return of his men, after a long silence the author had roused and spoken again. Usami had asked for two favors, the first for himself and the second for Jadir.

Santo Justino had not been happy about either, but at the time he considered them last requests and promised to do his best to see them carried out. The detective had long prided himself in being a man of his word. However, he was now finding that keeping his promise to Usami was taxing him far more than he'd anticipated.

At last Akihiko stubbed out his butt as well. "How is that lawyer I sent you working out?"

Santo Justino picked up his pack and tapped it on the table, trying to decide if he wanted another smoke already. "He's good. Everything seems to be handled."

He had been called on the carpet by the international team for "tampering with evidence."

Per Usami's first request, he had found Korovin's master control room and obliterated all the surveillance footage from the time Usami had breached the perimeter of the estate through the rescue. The video feeds were on a recycling loop and deleted everything after a twenty-four hour period anyway, but Usami wanted his part in the rescue effort to be minimized and as much of his presence as possible to be erased.

"They're not going to indite me anyway. No one cares that the bastard got wounded as he did.

"I think even Korovin's own defense is happy the guy has been neutered. So, they're not going to press charges against me... they've accepted 'self-defense.'

"And as for the surveillance… Korovin left more than enough evidence to hang himself a hundred times over. From what I understand they haven't even gotten through a quarter of his video footage yet."

While he hadn't archived his security, the Doc had left a massive library of encrypted documentation along with thousands of video hours of both his medical "experiments" as well as his "play times."

Akihiko watched Santo Justino withdraw a new cigarette from the pack. He wanted another badly himself, but knew it wouldn't be prudent for his healing lungs.

"Did they ever find out who leaked those three videos?" Akihiko's voice was grave.

It had been all over the news that week that three of Korovin's "movies" depicting two of his victims who were among the survivors, an American college student and a young teen from Belgium, had shown up on an "extreme" porn site. The videos were only up for a few hours before being pulled, but even with that short amount of time they'd gone wildly viral.

Santo Justino nodded. "They're keeping it quiet at the moment though. It's a delicate situation."

Akihiko gave a disgusted snort and reached for Jadir's abandoned cigarette, suddenly not caring about his taxed lungs or that he was taking an indirect kiss with it. He lit up and, after another bout of coughing, exhaled a long plume.

"Delicate for whom? Like those boys don't have enough to deal already with the trial and the media frenzy that waits for them outside these walls? Now they have to know that millions of people watched their abuse. They'll never be able to get those videos off the web now. They'll be haunted wherever they go."

Santo Justino completely understood Usami's sentiments and his fears: the leak was random and it could have just as easily been footage of what had happened to Takahashi.

"It will be terrible for them to have to navigate, but you and I both know that most of these boys are much stronger than they appear, Usami. And with all you and your family have done, you're giving them the best tools possible for coping."

"Speaking of which…" Santo Justino nodded to where Jadir had been sitting next to him at the table. "So Takahashi still doesn't know?"

Pale eyes narrowed as Akihiko looked through the grey curls spilling from the end of his fag. Santo Justino's earlier words had brought him no comfort and only stoked his unease.

"No, he still thinks it was a tumor."

"And you don't plan on telling him the truth?"

"Why should I? Jadir agreed."

"Like he had any choice."

Akihiko's eyes widened at the anger in Santo Justino's restrained growl. He replied with a tone that met and matched the detective's.

"I told you, there in the hall with Misaki, when you found us.

"He was the one who asked not to let his parents know he was alive. He thought he was dying and that was his wish…

"He didn't want them to claim a dead pregnant son. He couldn't bear to face them as it was, with them knowing what had been done to him even before that."

While being carried by Akihiko, Jadir had told the author of his condition and that he didn't want his family to know, ever. Usami had shared Jadir's petition with Santo Justino as they'd sat in the hallway.

Although the detective had been uncomfortable with the idea for a number of reasons, he'd shared Usami's requests with Aikawa on the chopper as they traveled to the clinic. When they arrived, Aikawa, as her author's representative, had seen that her Sensei's wishes were carried out.

When the senior Usami had stepped in later, he had not been pleased with his son's actions, but for some seemingly inexplicable reason had allowed the arrangements regarding Jadir to stand.

As a result, Jadir had been placed on the private floor with Usami and Misaki. The doctors who cared for him had all been paid for their silence. In the chaos of the rescue, the final number of captives had been flexible and he'd not been reported among the survivors. That Korovin had not felt inclined to film Jadir again, after he lost his arm and his pleasing symmetry, was just pure, blind luck.

The police returned Jadir's arm to his family, but that was all. His parents, though heartbroken, considered themselves lucky after a fashion: they believed their son was no longer suffering and there were a few of Korovin's victims of which nothing at all remained but their recorded sufferings.

Santo Justino shook his head. He lifted his hand and gestured at Akihiko with his smoldering cigarette.

"But he didn't die Usami, he lived. And his parents are left still grieving, not knowing that their son is alive! Not to mention he is all alone now. Unlike Misaki, he has no one to stand by him!"

"He had a choice, Santo Justino, and he made it. He didn't have to keep the child, but he did!" Even as he snapped back, Akihiko's heart burned at the truth of the detective's words. "You spoke to him yourself about his decision. I know you did. And he gave you the same answer!"

On the chopper one of the medics had caught the sound of a fetal heartbeat while examining Jadir's stomach. Though he thought himself crazy, each time the EMT checked, the sound was confirmed.

The moment that the helicopter landed Jadir was rushed to an MRI. The stunned medical staff did what they could and after three rounds of labor arresting drugs, Jadir's premature child finally settled. The situation had been very precarious, however.

Given the way the baby was carried, it was eventually concluded that with the bizarre set up of the boy's "womb," Korovin had somehow implanted the fetus in him through his navel. It was a remarkable bit of engineering, but in light of some of the Doc's other experiments it wasn't the most outrageous by far.

When Jadir regained consciousness enough to be fully present, he found that his plea to Usami during the rescue, to be allowed to disappear, had somehow been carried out. In this place of non-existence the teen had been given a number of options.

If Jadir knew more of what Korovin had done to him, he didn't reveal this. He spoke little anyway and given his fragile condition, despite their curiosity, the doctors hadn't dared press him.

He had surprised the attending staff, however, by requesting a DNA test to see if the fetus shared Korovin's blood before making his final decision. He flummoxed them even more when he asked that the paternity of fetus be checked against the DNA of all the rest of Korovin's captives.

Under Usami order the medical team complied and what they discovered had rocked all of them.

Once Jadir knew the heritage of his unborn, he'd said he wished to try and carry it to term, despite the fact this meant he would be confined to his bed until the baby was viable and then delivered by a special "C" section.

When Jadir had made his desires known, Akihiko, still recovering himself, had paid the teen a visit and the two had come to an understanding of sorts.

"You would have been happy for him to kill it, wouldn't you? It would make your life so much easier." Santo Justino's catholic sensibilities were outraged by his perception of Akihiko's callousness, despite how Jadir's child had been conceived.

"Don't put words in my mouth!"

Akihiko rose stiffly from the table abandoning his smoke. He moved over to the balcony; his long fingers gripped the walled edge of it tightly. "I just don't want anything that will cause Misaki any more suffering than what he's already experienced."

He turned back towards Santo Justino crossing his arms over his chest, composure somewhat restored. "All that Jadir's baby needs _has been_ and _will be_ provided for… Jadir as well… in perpetuity. And when he's well enough, Jadir and his child will be placed somewhere quiet and safe where they can live as undisturbed and peaceful a life as possible."

"Would you seriously deny Jadir this? After all he's been through?"

Santo Justino knew that Jadir would be receiving the same trust package as Korovin's other victims. It was generous and would sustain the boy very comfortably.

In his visits to Jadir since the birth too, Santo Justino had also met the wet nurse and the nanny appointed to Jadir's son. They had both struck him as quiet and caring. But the detective was also very aware these were professional women who had been vetted by Usami and had generational ties to the author's family.

Santo Justino did not see Jadir's staff as acceptable surrogates for blood relations nor did he think Usami's cold cash would ever provide Jadir with the familial warmth needed for true healing.

"What about family? His family?"

"Are you going to tell them?"

Santo Justino's eyes flickered wide for the merest of moments at Usami's question then narrowed. "I gave you my word, Usami."

Akihiko studied the detective for a moment. Then he dropped his gaze and sighed; Santo Justino was a good man and he did not wish for them to be adversarial. He brought a hand to his temple and rubbed the gathering ache there.

He felt badly, understanding well Santo Justino's objections. He knew too that without the detective's help he would have never gotten Misaki back.

"And I give you my word, Santo Justino-san… I will see that Jadir and his son are very well cared for. But I gave my word to Jadir too that I would help him keep his secret. You know as well as I now, what he's feeling is not uncommon. Over half the boys here would do the same if they could; they feel so much shame about what's happened to them.

I give you my word too, however, that as he heals, if Jadir changes his mind and wants to re-connect with his family, I won't prevent it. I will fully accept the responsibility for my actions as well as their consequences."

Santo Justino's gaze kept its intensity but the nature of it shifted slightly. "And Takahashi?"

Suddenly very weary, Akihiko moved to one of the loungers and sat down. He ran slightly tremoring fingers through his silver mane. His voice was tired.

"Right now Misaki thinks Jadir had a tumor. He thinks Jadir isn't meeting with him and the other boys because it's too painful, since some of them cost him his fingers and because he was seen by the others as Korovin's 'favorite.'

"Please trust me, Santo Justino-san, I know my Misaki and how he'd react. He's too fragile right now for such an additional burden."

_Or is it you who are too fragile, Usami? Are you not strong enough to deal with his possible response? _

The question burned the detective's tongue, but he held it there unasked. Looking at the pale, gaunt man before him, he reminded himself that Usami was also one of Korovin's victims.

"I will tell Misaki when the time is right. I know I ran out of favors long ago, but please…"

Santo Justino looked into Usami's solemn face and then nodded. He turned away then, made uncomfortable but the relief he saw in the pale eyes. The detective leaned back in his chair and drew deeply on his cigarette. A moment later twin bursts of smoke erupted from his nostrils.

"I said I was a man of my word. Ultimately the agreement is between you and Jadir. But personally I think by not telling Takahashi you're just digging your own grave here, Usami."

A barking laugh escaped Akihiko at the detective's choice of phrasing.

"Something funny in what I said, Usami? Santo Justino eyed the author again, his expression caught somewhere between curious and irritated.

The laughter turned into a short burst of coughing. When it ceased, Akihiko laid back into the lounger, exhausted, and closed his eyes. "No, Santo Justino-san. Nothing funny at all in it actually."

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><p>Misaki opened the door to his suite. He and Jadir had met Aikawa and Santo Justino in the hallway on their return. Aikawa said they had just left Usagi-san a few minutes before and were now on their way out. Even so, the couple offered to see Jadir to his room. That seemed to please Jadir, so Misaki had left the trio at the other teen's door.<p>

Green eyes scanned his apartment as soon as he stepped in and Misaki felt his heartbeat pick up when Usagi-san wasn't immediately visible.

_Stupid to get so worked up_, Misaki berated himself. _Usagi-san could be in the bathroom or out on the balcony. Or he could have gone off to one of his own appointments. _He swallowed his panic.

Moving over towards the perimeter of the room, he pushed further into the suite. Misaki knew he was safe here, but some part of him still felt more comfortable when he had the solid surface of a wall beside him and was not stuck precariously out in space.

A soft breath of relief escaped him when he reached the open sliding glass doors to the terrace and saw Usagi-san was still out on the balcony. Akihiko looked to be sleeping, stretched out on one of the cushioned chaise loungers.

Stepping silently up next to Usagi-san, Misaki's gaze swept over his lover and savior. His heart filled with powerful emotions.

If he'd felt incomparable next to the man before, now the inequity was even more vast. Misaki knew that if given a dozen lifetimes, he would still never be able to show Akihiko how grateful he was for what he'd done. Or how much he loved him.

_Doesn't mean I still can't try though._

Misaki noted Usagi-san's still-angular face. There were a few new lines etched around the edges of his lover's eyes. Misaki would have thought they made Usagi-san look more distinguished had he not known their origin. He took in the rumpled, black, cotton slacks and white shirt. This dishevelment told him that Usagi-san was still not well, though the man constantly told him differently.

Under the shirt's open collar Misaki could see the pink edge of Usagi-san's scar.

_What can I give him? _

A sudden surge flowed through Misaki's torso, heating him from his heart to his cock. His face flushed next.

_Would he even want that right now? _Misaki dropped his dark head.

In the past the answer would have been a resounding "yes" at any moment, regardless of circumstances. But since he'd been rescued Usagi-san had been so careful not to make any advances. The only touch that had been offered was of comfort and not in the least sexual. Tears built in Misaki's eyes because he knew Usagi-san still felt the strong pull of the flesh.

In fact, just two days ago he'd woken in bed, alone, and seeking Usagi-san out, he had heard his lover in the bathroom through the door. He knew too well the particular cadence of breath and the muffled growl that signaled his Rabbit's impending release to have any doubts of what Usagi-san had been doing in there.

He had crept back to bed and feigned sleep when Usagi-san's heated body had rejoined him mere minutes later.

Thinking about what he'd done himself in the bath just before his session, Misaki felt the burden of tears grow heavier in his eyes. This wasn't the first time he'd touched himself and thought of his Rabbit.

For a few weeks now he had been aching to have Usagi-san handle him in the ways that he used to. Misaki wanted desperately for Usagi-san to reclaim his body, to let him know that it wasn't just his heart that still belonged to Usami Akihiko, but all of him.

_Am I being selfish to want this?… To ask him to claim something so damaged? So soiled? Will it make me more burdensome than I have already become?_

_I am not dirty. I am not a burden… _These second thoughts felt like a lie, but Misaki held on to them anyway. He'd been advised to tell himself these things when the other degrading musings assailed him. He wondered if he'd really ever feel truly whole again after all that had happened.

Misaki knew that he had to come to purity anew within himself, but in his mind Usagi-san's touch still contained the power to purge him.

Once more the burn to feel Usagi-san inside him that had been growing over the last few days possessed Misaki. Looking on his sleeping Rabbit now, the urge suddenly seemed overwhelming.

Head still bowed, Misaki lifted his eyes from the red terracotta tiles. Through the blur of his tears he saw a partially-smoked cigarette dangling loosely from Usagi-san's long fingers, his arm hanging off the side of the lounger.

Misaki's brow furrowed and his mouth quirked simultaneously at the sight.

Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Misaki approached and bent down. As carefully as possible, he plucked the smoldering fag from Akihiko's hand and ground it out on the tile. Straightening he was surprised by a pair of sleepy lavender eyes regarding him.

"When did you become such a light sleeper?"

A lopsided grin cooked Akihiko's mouth at the question. "I missed you."

Misaki grunted lightly at the sentiment and the avoidance, though secretly he was glad Usagi-san had woken.

"I have been gone for barely more than two hours."

Akihiko's weary smile grew a little wider. "Still missed you, nonetheless.

"Every minute without Misaki is a minute too long." He looked at his now empty hand with a moment's regret before shifting it up to pat the cushion beside him.

Misaki moved over silently and settled. Not on the edge of the lounger, but instead, he arranged himself carefully in Akihiko's lap. Then he leaned against Akihiko's chest, tucking his head under the strong chin above him.

Akihiko was both surprised and pleased by Misaki's response to his beckon. He could still not get over how much Misaki seemed to need his physical presence and how much more open he was to certain touch and soft words. It was something he had always longed for, but it pained him immensely how his boy had been brought to this place.

Almost as if he could read his older lover's thoughts, Misaki shifted a bit uncomfortably and then grumbled for good measure, "You always say such stupid things."

Above Misaki's dark head, Akihiko grinned at this flash of his old Misaki. He wrapped his long arms around the unresisting body curled warmly against him and gathered Misaki tighter. "Nothing stupid in that sentiment at all, Love. It's true."

Basking in the heat and the chill of Usagi-san's embrace, Misaki snorted dismissively. But then closed his eyes and listened to the steady beat of the heart beneath his head, cherishing it.

Mentally he was exhausted from his session, but at the same time something within him was buzzing, not wishing to settle.

"Are you h-hungry, Usagi-san?"

The question was innocent enough, but Misaki found himself holding his breath as he waited for the answer.

"More tired really, Mi. What about you? Shall we get a menu and make some dinner plans?"

Misaki worked hard to keep from visibly deflating at Usagi-san's answer. His old rabbit would have likely said, "I'm hungry for Misaki," and set about satisfying his appetite immediately.

Pushing himself up off Akihiko's chest Misaki sat there a minute, his mind spinning about what to do next.

"I'm... I'm hungry," he whispered at last.

"Do you want to cook something then, instead of having the kitchen send something up?" Akihiko's tone was hopeful.

Though _New Days_ hosted a staff of top notch cooks and the catered room service was first class, he'd made sure that the suite's small kitchen was fully stocked in case Misaki wanted to start cooking again. His boy hadn't shown any inclination so far and Akihiko had come to think of Misaki taking it back up as a sign that he'd made some significant progress.

Seeing Misaki shake his head, Akhiko held back the disappointed sigh that had risen in his chest.

"I suppose if you're truly famished I could be enticed to make you one of my "Usami's special fluffy omlettes."

Akihiko's brow furrowed when Misaki raised his head and the green gaze that met his was tearful.

"N-no, Usagi-san… I am "truly f-famished" but I don't need an omlette." Misaki choked the words out before he dropped his head again. His cheeks burned furiously.

Pulling them both up together a little straighter in the lounger, Akihiko took one hand and set it under Misaki's chin, lifting his boy's face. His own wore an expression of concerned confusion.

"I don't understand, Misaki… What do you…"

Lavender eyes widened in shock when Misaki pushed the hand away from under his chin and a moment later Akihiko felt Misaki's hands cupping his jaw. The rest of his question was cut off by the sudden press of soft lips against his own.

His heart instantly leapt with desire and apprehension at Misaki's unexpected act. He forced himself to still however, and let Misaki's mouth first softly and then hungrily explore his. He responded but held himself back, not wanting to do anything that might frighten his boy or trigger him.

Finally Misaki broke the kiss. He dropped his hands and then dropped his head again.

Even with his head bowed as it was, Akihiko could see the blush on Misaki's cheeks. He leaned forward and nuzzled into Misaki's clean, dark hair. He set his lips on the blush-heated forehead and kissed it softly.

"Misaki…"

Misaki drew back again and then he looked up… His eyes were large and fearful. Akihiko met his gaze and waited.

In his lap Misaki shifted so that he straddled the black-clad thighs beneath him now. The dark head stayed down, but trembling hands slowly rose up. One of Misaki's hands stroked the top of the scar visible at the open throat of Akihiko's shirt. Then it joined his brother at the next closed button.

It was killing Akihiko to stay still as he watched Misaki's tremoring hands struggle to unlatch the button. But he knew too, that all the rules of their previous games had been changed and so he waited for Misaki to teach him the new grounds of their engagements.

After undoing two buttons Misaki stopped before daring to go any further and at last raised his head. The hope and the apprehension that warred in the green eyes before him all but broke Akihiko's heart.

"Er… Are… a-are you still n-not hungry, Usagi-san?"

Misaki's eyes widened slightly at the heat in Usagi-san's eyes and a smirk that he'd not seen in so long he'd forgotten how well it fit his Rabbit's face. Cool hands cupped his jaw a moment later and Misaki let out a soft sob of relief when a hot mouth found his and began to wordlessly proclaim how long and how deeply Usagi-san had been starving.

* * *

><p><strong>"Days Without Sun"... More like "Story Without an End"... Heh.<strong>

**So, I think I have wrapped up all the details here and you can see I have started the tender lemon and given you a taste, just in case you thought it, along with Akihiko and Misaki, would never come.**

**Once again, have immense gratitude for all you dear readers for your wonderful feedback. These chapters have been so long I have been worried about the added length of AN, so I think I will try and respond through PM for the last chapter's reviews individually.**

**Also, Dragonish, I know you're not registered, but thank you for the reviews and props for doing some research! JackAttack was my 500th review and her/his request was for the sequel. Since you were 600 is there a Bunny/Blossom oneshot I can write for you? Let me know.**

**So yes... One last chapter... I wish I could say I was as much a man of my word as Santo Justino, but unfortunately, I think you'd know already that would be problematic. But the citrus flavor of this last bit should hopefully stay tart on your tongue until the next and LAST chapter and we get poor Misaki impregnated.**


	39. Epilogue: Healing Part IV

**Days Without Sun,**

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Epilogue Part IV: Healing**

* * *

><p>Misaki felt his breath catch as Usagi-san's mouth caught his. A dozen light kisses were pulled from his lips. In between these, Usagi-san's lush tongue brushed him inquiringly. Opening himself, Misaki extended his own in welcome. He allowed Usagi-san to drink him in before seeking to quench his own terrible thirst.<p>

Catching Usagi-san's tongue at last, Misaki sucked, tentatively at first, and then with fervor. At the first taste of his author's flavors: of smoke and coffee and ginger, he felt desperate for more.

Even so, he pushed back breaking their kiss.

Akihiko sat still, not pressing forward as he would have in the past. He expected Misaki to withdraw into his old manner of reluctant protests or to shut-down, as he had been prone to do since his rescue. He was stunned however, to feel Misaki's hands leave his shirt and catch his jaw again. Akihiko's eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed with emotion, as soft lips brushed against his cheek, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, touching and tasting before leaving him again.

"Usagi-san…"

Misaki's whisper was plaintive, its tone expressed his need better than a thousand words could have.

Opening his eyes again, Misaki's met his for only a moment before looking away and Akihiko's heart shattered at the open need in the green gaze. His fingers flew to his shirt and he began to quickly finish where Misaki had left off unbuttoning. The slight tremor in his fingers startled Akihiko and, while he wished he might attribute this sudden quaking to his illness, he knew better.

_I'm nervous. _

_I haven't been this bloody unsettled since… Hell, even my first time, my heart didn't pound like this._

This intrusive insight was quickly left behind, when Misaki shifted atop him.

Seeing his bruised flower, Akihiko knew in an instant he was by far not the most apprehensive one here. He understood too that most of his unease came from worry of doing anything that might set his love back, that he might somehow unknowingly open one of Misaki's healing wounds.

When Akihiko finished with the buttons on his shirt, Misaki's head didn't lift, but his hands reached up. In clenched fingers Misaki took hold of the shirt and pushed it down off broad shoulders.

Akihiko allowed it to slide off. Once free from the encumbering fabric, his hands moved to grasp the hem of Misaki's overlarge shirt. He stopped when he heard Misaki's breath hitch and a shaking hand settled over one of his own. Halting his motion, Akihiko felt the thin fingers of Misaki's damaged hand hover lightly over his chest, before dropping down.

Misaki shook his dark head. "P-please, Usagi-san… I w-want to leave it on."

Pale eyes sparked painfully and the author's heart clenched at the unease in Misaki's voice: he knew how self-conscious his boy was about all the marks Korovin had left on his body. These scars didn't change how Akihiko felt about his beloved in the least but, rather than say this, he simply allowed Misaki's shirt to settle.

Releasing the outer edge of the garment, slowly, long fingers crept up under and soon a cool, large palm rested on the flat of Misaki's low belly. Beneath his hand, Akihiko could feel the pink ridges of scored skin. Settling his hand, Akihiko leaned forward. His lips brushed along Misaki's jaw until they reached the teen's ear.

"This okay, Mi?" Akihiko held his breath until he saw Misaki's almost imperceptible nod.

"Y-yes." Misaki exhaled a shaky breath.

"And this?"

Skilled fingers slowly swept up Misaki's torso. Sensitive fingertips read the braille of Misaki's wounding. They kissed what Akihiko's lips could not. Slipping his hand up, Akihiko cupped the side of one of Misaki's lean pectorals; he brushed a broad thumb around the outer edge of his boy's nipple. Beneath this hand Misaki shivered, his back stiffened involuntarily and he pushed his chest forward. The tip of Akihiko's thumb found the point of Misaki's nipple and he flicked across it.

A low moan caught in Misaki's throat and another tremor of pleasure shook his lean frame.

"Usagi-san…"

Akihiko felt his mouth pulled into a smile. How long he'd been waiting to hear his name spoken like this; the song of Misaki's breathy whisper filled his ears and his heart. His broad hand slipped around to catch the blade of Misaki's shoulder as he pulled him closer.

He caught Misaki's lips, just as his boy had darted his pink tongue out to nervously lick them. He caressed the tip of Misaki's tongue with his own and when Misaki went to pull in a deep breath, Akihiko wet his lover's lips for him. Misaki held his mouth slightly open, lips parted, as Usagi-san lingered over them with his own. He leaned into Usagi-san when he felt the comforting mouth move up to his temple. From here Akihiko ghosted kisses down the side of his face.

White teeth pulled gently on a pinked earlobe. Akihiko ran his lips over the inner curves of Misaki's ear.

"Ah… my, Misaki, I want you so badly."

The whisper of Usagi-san's breath pulled another guarded moan from Misaki. At the feel of warm lips and tender nips along his jawline, a word escaped him:

"Please…"

The hand on Misaki's shoulder braced him. He felt Akihiko's other hand slip up and trace the waistband of the loose cotton pants he wore, curling around their edge. He felt, not restrained by his rabbit's large hands on his skin, but anchored. The budding heat in his groin had flowered quickly. Long fingers dipped down further and brushed his hardened cock where it lay, pressed up against his low belly. He blushed when Akihiko touched its slick tip.

"So wet, already, Misaki," Akihiko murmured against the skin of Misaki's neck. His tongue traced a patch of raised skin at the base of Misaki's neck, where shoulder and collarbone connected.

It took the author a moment to realize, this time, Misaki's sudden shudder was not a reaction to pleasure.

At the feel of Akihiko's mouth on this scar, Misaki's memory was triggered back to a time, early in his captivity: Korovin had branded his flesh here with teeth during a "play date" with him and Jadir. Misaki began to tremble harder remembering all the other things Korovin had done to him that day...

_And the things he had me do to Jadir…_

Misaki felt Akihiko's mouth leave him and his lover pull back.

"Misaki… Love? What's wrong?"

As much at the fearful concern in Usagi-san's voice as at the memory, a sob wracked Misaki's lean frame.

Akihiko started when he felt wiry arms wrap around his neck and Misaki pulled the two of them together with a surprising strength. Misaki tried to push the images in his mind from him with the same force he clung to Usagi-san. He pressed a damp cheek against his author's evening-stubbled jaw.

Shifting the hand on his blossom's back, Akihiko pulled the tight shoulders closer. The hand that had been in Misaki's pants moved up to stroke his boy's hair.

"Misaki… W-was it something I did?"

Akihiko cursed himself silently for moving too fast. _I knew this was too soon. _

He was chagrined; knowing that as tightly as Misaki was pressing against him, there was no way his broken boy couldn't feel his arousal. He'd been wanting to reclaim Misaki for so long, he'd almost filled at their first kiss.

Misaki tried to free his mind but the scene kept unfolding. He bit back hoarse sobs recalling, just before Korovin had bit him, he'd been half dreaming he was with Usagi-san out on their balcony in Tokyo, the setting not so far off from this moment at _New Days._

"Mi-chan… I'm so sorry."

Long fingers soothed through his hair, if somewhat clumsily, and Misaki wrapped himself in Usagi-san's low, rough voice.

"It's n-not…" Misaki hiccupped, willing his battered heart to slow down, telling his fearful flesh that the hands holding him were kind, that they would…

_Never hurt me…_

Misaki suddenly remembered another imagined scenario he'd been lost in during his first terrible "playdate" with Korovin. He and Usagi-san had been on the couch in their apartment, him confessing to Usagi-san.

_I was going to tell Usagi-san… I was going to…_

Misaki felt his blood rush into his cheeks. A sudden pulse quickened in his temples that now matched the throb of his groin.

_I promised myself…_

Drawing up his courage, Misaki pressed closer. His voice trembled; his breath shaky as he whispered into Akihiko's ear.

"It's n-not you, Usagi-san… j-just a b-bad memory… Y-you would n-never hurt me."

A careful hand settled on the back of Misaki's neck. Akihiko's own voice was steady, but not without hesitation.

"No, not on purpose, Misaki, of course… But I am far from perfect. When I think back… How, how we met… What happened with Takahiro."

Against his cheek, Akihiko felt Misaki shake his head, then release his hold and push back. Misaki kept his head lowered, refusing to meet his eyes.

"N-no… Usagi-san, you n-never hurt me. Not those t-times either." Though still stuttering, Misaki's voice was stronger this time.

Akihiko could feel the heat of the blush that filled his boy's cheeks and dripped down his neck.

"Okay, Love."

Misaki felt himself bristle at something in his lover's tone. He knew that Usagi-san was trying to be comforting, but it struck him more as condescending.

"Maybe this was too soon, Mi-chan..."

Unconsciously Misaki clenched his fists. He knew that Akihiko had gone into hell for him, that he'd stood with him when his mind had all but broken. He wanted Usagi-san to continue to stay by his side… But as much as he loved how tender Akihiko was being with him, Misaki knew too that he would never heal as he needed to, if Usagi-san couldn't move past thinking about him as some large, damaged child.

Akihiko had leaned forward after Misaki. The author felt his breath leave him when hands suddenly crashed into his chest, knocking him back into the lounger.

"Fuck, Misaki!"

After his startled exclamation, Akihiko was seized by a fresh bout of coughing. Hearing this, Misaki's head shot up and new tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Usagi-san! I'm s-so s-sorry!"

Once he'd collected himself, Akihiko looked up into guilt-stricken, green eyes. He cocked his shaggy head to the side and uttered an uncomfortable chuckle.

"No worries, Misaki."

He pushed himself up from the lounger, half propped on lean arms. "What the hell was that for, though?"

An old familiar exasperation welled up in Misaki, along with an old fear.

"Stupid Usagi!"

He felt himself cringe even as he uttered his beloved name for his author.

_I have to do this… I need him to see me as getting better, as a man who will be able to stand at his side, and on my own._

Setting a hand only slightly more gentle on Usagi-san's chest, just over his scar, Misaki pushed him back again. Lavender eyes widened as Misaki leaned over him.

"I am sound enough to know a few things. I know you have never hurt me… Not even at the start.

"If you had, I'm not so stupid that I would have hung around, or not gone home and had Nii-chan come back and kick your ass!"

Misaki drew a deep breath and his face flushed a furious red. "And right now I know what I need too!"

"What I need… What I want is…

"I w-want you…" Misaki grimaced; his anger had kept his voice smooth up till this point with nary a stutter, but he couldn't stop now.

"A- Akihiko."

Misaki sat high on Akihiko's hips, his lover's arousal occasionally prodding his backside as the man beneath him shifted. He could feel his body trembling with tension as he waited for Usagi-san's response.

"Misaki…" Akihiko's eyes were wide with wonder. "You said my name…" The import of this was not lost on him.

Misaki couldn't help but bite his bottom lip as he nodded. Under him Akihiko bucked up just slightly and a low growl rumbled in throat.

"Say it again. Please, Misaki." Akihiko's voice had found a new degree of huskiness.

Pulling up every ounce of his courage Misaki leaned forward and took Akihiko's lips, kissing them gently, but with purpose. He lifted his head just high enough to stare into awestruck, pale eyes.

"I want you… Akihiko."

Hearing this, Akihiko surged forward only to find himself gently restrained by the hand over his heart.

"P-please, Akihiko… Let me d-do this… I… I need to."

Understanding glowed in lavender eyes. An uncomfortable smirk curled the corner of Akihiko's mouth, but he nodded and slowly lay back, settling in. One hand, however, closed over Misaki's sweating palm on his chest. Misaki moved, taking Usagi-san's hand and entwining their fingers. His other hand feathered over Akihiko's jaw. He watched his lover's wonderful eyes close, Usagi-san's strong neck tip back. Misaki's lips followed his trembling fingers.

Tentatively, Misaki kissed down Akihiko's neck. Every brush of his lips thrilled Akihiko and he grrr'ed his encouragement.

Spurred on by the sounds Usagi-san was making, Misaki's mouth grew more adamant as it drifted lower. He kissed across collarbones, down between Usagi-san's taut pecs, hovered over his scar. Then he slid sideways. His lengthening bangs tickled across heated skin as he moved to a nipple. Kitten-like, Misaki extended his tongue and licked around Akihiko's swelling bud. He felt Akihiko's hand still-entwined in his tighten, as his lover arched up into this touch.

Green eyes widened at the vision of Usagi-san beneath him, the man's breath quickening. Even as pale and thin as Usagi-san was, Misaki found his lover incredibly beautiful and incredibly arousing.

Shifting, Misaki switched over to the other side of Akihiko's chest. He suckled and teased, gently worrying the hard nub of Akihiko's slicked nipple with careful teeth. The rough sounds of pleasure this elicited made Misaki's leaking cock throb even harder.

As his mouth had moved down, his hips had shifted lower as well. Misaki could feel Usagi-san now bucking lightly up into him, seeking friction. He responded, pushing back. Through the thin fabric of his pants he could feel his heated sac pressed against Akihiko's hard length as he ground down.

"Fuck, Misaki…."

At this pleading exclamation Misaki felt a soft growl escape him. Akihiko's pale eyes opened and he blinked in surprise. He smiled seeing his boy wide-eyed as well.

Despite how bright his new blush burned in his cheeks, Misaki dropped his head back down and kept going. Akihiko kept his eyes open now, watching entranced, as the dark head moved lower.

"Ah, Please, Misaki…"Akihiko's voice was weighted with want.

Slipping down even further so that he now straddled Akihiko's knees, Misaki leaned over and fumbled the closures of Usagi-san's trousers with trembling fingers. Narrow hips lifted to assist him even before the soft sounds of buckle and zip opening up had ceased. Wrapping his fingers around the waistband of trousers and shorts, Misaki pulled down, careful of his rabbit's straining erection. He watched the thick length of it shift as it was freed.

Akihiko grunted with pleasure to feel Misaki's hand take him up. From the head of the lounger he watched his beloved hesitate, then Misaki dipped his head lower and the author could feel the heat of his boy's ragged breaths on his skin.

From where he hovered, Misaki stared at Usagi-san's cock, dark in color, its sheathed tip, shiny and weeping. His mind was filled once again with terrible memories, but this was Usagi-san and not Korovin, the color of flesh was different, Korovin was cut where Akihiko was not. Leaning even closer, Misaki inhaled. His nostrils quivered, filled with the scent of soap and cigarettes and Usagi-san's own particular musk. He glanced up when he felt the hand that still held his, release him.

This hand, recently heated by the warmth of his own, brushed his falling bangs to the side and Misaki could now clearly see his lover's face looking down at him. Usagi-san remained silent, his eyes were filled with tears of desire, but his expression said that he would honor Misaki's decision whatever it was.

Akihiko's pale head dropped back into the cushions when he felt the bridge of Misaki's nose brush down his shaft in answer and tender lips press a kiss into the blond tangle around its base before withdrawing. A beautiful growl rumbled up from his chest as a velvet tongue pressed to his head. Akihiko felt the hand gripping him pull his foreskin back and a gloriously hot, wet mouth encircled his tip.

Misaki's heart pounded with both the thrill and fear of his actions. He was surprised by the mild taste of Usagi-san's pre-emissive slick and his tongue swirled around seeking more of this new flavor. The heated groans coming from above him fueled his boldness and Misaki slipped deeper onto his lover's shaft. His hand joined as he stroked, pulling as much pleasure from Usagi-san as he could.

Above Misaki, Akihiko was awash with emotions. He'd longed for ages for his lover to take such initiative, to claim him like this. He found his pleasure stumble, however when he marveled at Misaki's skillful mouth, and then realized how this skill had been acquired. He pushed this unwanted realization quickly to the side.

_All that matters now is that my Misaki is here with me now, that we're doing this together, and that after this, he'll know no other. _

With this thought, Akihiko felt himself stirred in new ways. He couldn't help himself: he shifted, and one of his large hands drifted down to gently catch his flower's dripping chin.

Misaki started at the touch. He looked up and slid off of Akihiko, his doe eyes large with apprehension.

_Did I do something wrong? Is Usagi-san unhappy with me?_

"Misaki," Akihiko whispered, his eyes filled with equal measures of love and hunger. "I want us to share this moment."

Cocking his head, Misaki gazed at Akihiko in confusion. He sat frozen and then allowed large hands to take his shoulders and raise him up, shift him to the side. Kneeling there silently, green eyes watched as Akihiko kicked out of his trousers. Misaki looked down in surprise when his rabbit's fingers then moved to the drawstring of his own pants. Raising himself higher on his knees, Misaki allowed them to slip from his hips. He ducked his head as he scrambled out of his lower garments, his face burning with understanding at last.

Once they were both bared, Akihiko laid back again, reclining. Misaki moved on the lounger so that his knees now rested on the cushions at the top of Usagi-san's shoulders. He stretched his lean body over his rabbit's long torso. Dipping down on one elbow, resting just to the outside of Akihiko's hip, Misaki took up the man's length with his free hand again. His mouth engulfed Usagi-san once more, slipping over his slick, spit-cooled cock.

Misaki hummed around his author's length as he felt large hands cup his bare cheeks and part him. He felt Usagi-san's nose nuzzle his sac and brush up the crease of his ass. A hot tongue pressed against the sensitive skin between his balls and his entrance, and he felt his hips pulled down as Usagi-san sought to anoint his hidden place. Misaki released Akihiko's cock with a gasp, when Usagi-san found his pucker and an eager tongue flickered there, before pushing in.

"Usagi-san," Misaki called the name without thinking, his voice heated. "Don't…"

His protest ceased immediately as a cool hand took hold of his balls and stroked them. Akihiko left off his most intimate kisses and shifted Misaki's hips again.

"There is no place on you I don't want to know Misaki. I want to taste every inch of your skin, commit every cell to my memory."

"Stupid, Akihiko…" Misaki had regained enough presence to chide. "Don't say such…"

He lost all connection to language however, when his author's mouth took hold of him from its new position. His lean frame was wracked with an ecstatic shiver as Usagi-san swallowed his length to its base. All Misaki's limbs grew weak as his system was overcome with pleasure.

Sensing his boy's near collapsing state Akihiko shifted and soon they each lay, top to tails, on their sides. In this new position the lovers curled into each other. Misaki took Usagi-san in his mouth again. Mouths and hands worked in tandem, each lover lost both in service and in sensation. After a short time, Misaki could feel Akihiko reaching his peak.

Before he was able to bring Usagi-san off, however, his own body spasmed. Misaki felt himself spill down his lover's skilled throat and he groaned as the tremors of his climax rocked him. Akihiko released Misaki's spent member and kissed a scarred hip where his boy's over-sized shirt had ridden up.

After a brief pause, Misaki continued his motions. Akihiko picked up Misaki's still turgid cock in a sticky hand and licked its tip. Then his eyes closed and his head dipped back; he uttered a hoarse cry as he came.

Misaki's mouth filled with hot, salty seed and he swallowed this hungrily. He wanted the taste of Usagi-san to obliterate his memory of any other. His hand continued to milk his lover until he'd pulled the last drops of dew from Usagi-san's thick stem. Then he lay his head down on the cushion gasping.

Akihiko rose and gathered Misaki, turning him around, until they lay side by side, spooned into each other. Misaki lifted his damp head and gazed at Akihiko with hazy eyes, but here was no doubt that a new flicker of pride glowed in his green gaze as well.

Akihiko said nothing, he just smiled and pressed a kiss to his beloved's sweaty brow. Misaki dipped his head, his still sex-flushed cheeks pinking further. Then he lay his head back down and snuggled in. One of Akihiko's hands drifted down and under Misaki's overlarge shirt, pulling his lover tight into him. The other ran lazy fingers through tangled brown hair.

These stilled in their stroking when Misaki murmured softly.

"I love you, Usagi-san…"

Akihiko pressed another kiss to the top of a dark head and chuckled lightly when he felt Misaki slightly squirm at this.

"I love you too Misaki."

After this the lovers fell into silence. Soon their sleepy breaths were lost beneath the music of evening insects. Within their sheltered enclosure on the balcony, the air cooled and shadows slipped into dusk. Darkness descended upon _New Days_, but Misaki and Akihiko rested more easily in it, each carrying a new lightness within him.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the long silence. Thank you to all who kept checking in.<strong>

**Just a note in response to an anonymous review: I haven't felt any of my reviewers have been stalkerish. I love hearing from you. It is the only payment a FF writer gets for his labors, so, it means a hell of a lot when people are enthusiastic about a story.**

**Oh and in case you're wondering… I'm not done yet. I'm not quitting this fic until after Aki's conception. So there will be some more lemon forthcoming. Hopefully you won't have to wait so long.  
><strong>

**Love to my sweet readers!**

**Cerberus**


	40. Epilogue V: The End and The Beginning

**To everyone who has followed this story since the beginning and hung in there with me as it has moved from my mind to the page, you have my deep gratitude. I especially thank those reviewers that offered me such thoughtful feedback and encouragement along the way, particularly on such a dark story. **

**A special shout out to the wee Dragonish-reader whose commitment to this tale and intermittent pleas for its completion spurred me on to finally finish. I want to thank my dear reader, X, too, for her faithful proofreading, despite the fact her heart belongs only to the Egoists.**

**Also, I dedicate these last chapters to the amazing Black Flamingo 101. It was her love of the Romanticas that pulled me into a deeper exploration of the couple, broadening my previously narrow view of their relationship. Thank you, Flamingo, for being my sounding board for so much of this piece. I couldn't have written it without you.**

**My dear readers, hope this ending satisfies.**

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><p><strong>Days without Sun<strong>

**Epilogue V: The End and the Beginning**

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><p>It wasn't until the screen went black that Akihiko realized his eyes had been elsewhere for ages. With a light frown he swiped a finger over the keyboard's mouse reviving the screen, but only long enough for him to save his chapter and shut the laptop down.<p>

This accomplished, his gaze immediately returned to its previous distraction: watching Misaki washing the dishes from the late supper they'd recently shared. To anyone else the scene would have been of little interest, boring at best, but for Akihiko, his beautiful, broken boy scrubbing away with such vigor, held a normalcy that made his heart ache with nostalgia.

_I want that back... _

Before he'd even finished the thought, the tightness in his troubled chest increased. He knew that such a wish was futile, their old life irretrievable. Akihiko's lips pressed into a firm line with the resolution he'd found himself making a thousand times a day since Misaki had first been taken from him.

_We are going to build a new life together… one even stronger and better than before… No matter the price or how long it takes._

There had been countless moments over the past weeks when this promise had felt reckless, empty, hopeless, but the time he and Misaki had shared that day made it finally seem possible.

Akihiko brushed the back of his hand across his mouth. Even now, hours later, his lips still buzzed with the memory of his lover's most intimate parts. He hoped to never forget that sweet reunion. Their lovemaking out on the balcony had been exquisite, and after, entangled together, they had fallen into a deep slumber.

It was the first sleep they'd shared since his rescue that Misaki had awoken peacefully, not thrashing about trying to escape the claws of some nightmare.

_Please, _Akihiko petitioned whatever deity might be listening,_ let this be the start of sweeter dreams for him._

Across the open bar in the kitchen, a soapy glass slipped from Misaki's hand. While it didn't break, it hit the side of the sink with a _thunk_, jarring him from the reverie he'd been lost in. Green eyes flashed up in surprise and his cheeks grew pink when he caught Akihiko's staring at him with such intensity.

Quickly he dropped his gaze back down to the sink. Covering his embarrassment he mumbled, "I thought you were w-writing, Usagi-san."

Pushing himself away from the table, Akihiko stood. He noted the sudden tension in Misaki's thin frame at his movement, so he paused, waiting.

"I finished. Thought I might assist you with the dishes." He watched Misaki's eyes widen at the offer and was pleased when the stiff shoulders suddenly relaxed.

"The b-best way you can _assist_, Usagi-san, is to stay out of the kitchen." Misaki grumbled in feigned annoyance. "It wouldn't be taking me n-nearly this long to clean up if you hadn't already been so 'helpful' with making dinner."

Akihiko couldn't help but break into a grin at the truth of this. But tonight was the first time Misaki had really cooked, and he'd been unable to keep away from the kitchen and out from under his feet.

Seeing that Misaki had turned his attention back to the escaped glass he'd recaptured, Akihiko ambled over. He caught Misaki keeping track of him out of the corner of an emerald eye; but even though his entrance in to the kitchen was watched, his boy remained easy.

Slipping behind Misaki, Akihiko slowly pressed in. He extended his arms around, eventually catching soap-slicked hands in his own. He felt desire spark when he noted the overlarge shirt Misaki wore had fallen down off of one shoulder and how, beneath bright scars, the richening tones of his boy's skin were set off by the white tie of the apron he'd donned for his cleanup.

Leaning his silvered head over this enticing bit of his blossom, Akihiko growled teasingly into a pinking ear.

"_I'm_ the cause of your extended clean up? But I wasn't the one who kept spilling things…"

Half-expecting Misaki to bat his hands away and protest, Akihiko was pleasantly surprised when, instead; Misaki allowed the glass he was holding to slip back down beneath the water's surface and then tangled their fingers together.

"Well, it's hard not to when there's a big idiot around who can't keep his hands to himself."

His tone held a certain amount of huff, but even as Misaki said these words, he pressed his back against Akihiko's broad chest. He couldn't help himself. Their time on the balcony had only stoked the low flames that had been burning inside him for days. And, while their earlier coming together held certain healing, Misaki felt himself gripped with an overwhelming desire for more.

Akihiko lifted his head, nuzzling into the growing dark curls, kissing the silky strands, proof of Misaki's gradual physical restoration. One of his hands disentangled itself and drew back, only to carefully slip under Misaki's apron. It dipped down, sliding easily under the too-loose waist band of the khaki shorts the teen had changed into.

"Forgive me for wanting an appetizer before dinner, Misaki."

Misaki shivered as the cool, wet hand feathered over the jut of his hipbone and tentatively traced downwards from there. He felt his skin tingle as fingertips lightly combed through the small brush of hair at the base of his cock.

"I won't extend the dime-store romance cliché here further, however, with a mention of desiring _dessert_."

The back of Misaki's neck grew hot at these words; he could feel a new blush rising to his cheeks. "S-stupid Usagi, you just did…"

The color in Misaki's cheeks was actually only due in small part to Akihiko's sappiness. Most of it was caused by the fact that he had been thinking along these same lines, and knew that he wouldn't find peace tonight until Usagi-san had claimed him completely.

"Misaki?"

Akihiko had grinned at Misaki's retort, but a second later he sensed his boy had drifted from him. He lightened his touch but continued his soft petting, waiting for him to return. A quiet sigh of relief escaped Akihiko when a few moments later Misaki relaxed back, settling further against him. Lazy fingertips meandered lower, grazing the skin of his lover's shaft and a low moan slipped out from between Misaki's plush lips.

His rabbit had always touched him so skillfully, but with his new understanding, Usagi-san's caresses had become even more profound. A second wave of heat washed over Misaki; his whole body flushed this time. He wiped a sudsy hand across his suddenly damp brow. His cock throbbed at each touch and quickly filled.

_This… It's too good. _

"This" wasn't just the magic of Akihiko's hand.

There in the small kitchen, bathed in warm light, with his lover so solidly behind him, for the first time Misaki felt really safe and more like himself than he had in months.

_Almost… "normal."_

The feeling overwhelmed him and he blinked back tears.

_Why is this so difficult? Everything is so perfect right now, but I can hardly bear how this feels._

"Misaki?" Akihiko called out softly: he'd become too attuned to his boy's sudden shifts.

Against him his boy's slender body tremored. Leaning in again, Akihiko kissed Misaki's temple. There, he encountered a bit of foam left behind from Misaki's hand. As he brushed this off with the bridge of his nose, Akihiko became worried: his lover's forehead felt terribly hot. He hoped that this didn't mean that Misaki was coming down with another one of the strange fevers that had plagued him ever since he'd been rescued.

"Usagi-san…" Misaki whispered his name so softly Akihiko almost missed it.

"Yes, Love…" It didn't bother Akihiko that once their time on the balcony had ended; Misaki had gone back to calling him by his old nickname. He understood that the boy would only call him by his first name on occasion: times when it would communicate to him things that Misaki could otherwise not.

The feeling Misaki had just experienced was already ebbing away and in its wake something new was taking hold. Not wanting to lose his brief bliss, he slipped his other hand out of Akihiko's and gripped the cool edge of the stainless steel sink to anchor himself. It was no use, however, this sensation was even more powerful.

Fresh tears stung Misaki's eyes and he dipped his head down.

_My last day on the beach, before Korovin… that had felt close to perfect too. _

A blade of fear pierced Misaki's chest, knowing now how easily and irrevocably one's fragile utopia could be shattered.

_Whatever happens, I never want Usagi-san to have any doubt that I love him._

Akihiko's silvered head had followed after Misaki's, trying to catch what his blossom was murmuring. His pale eyes widened when, suddenly, unexpectedly, Misaki turned his face towards him and caught his mouth in an anxious kiss. Akihiko drew back in surprise, but just for an instant.

His lips met Misaki's and at the taste of him, he couldn't help himself. Hungrily Akihiko began devouring each new kiss his lover offered. Unlike their more careful exchange of earlier, here was a frantic consumption. The quiet kitchen echoed with sounds of wet smacks and sucks as fervent lips sought and tongues tangled.

"U-usagi-san…"

At a break in their intense oral embrace to draw breath, Akihiko found his air-impoverished lungs suddenly empty again when he heard Misaki's panted whisper.

"Usagi-san. In-inside me… P-please."

"Misaki!"

Akihiko couldn't help but exclaim at his tender lover's bold request. Pulling back, his gaze was met with Misaki's "messy," crying face, but despite this and the fact Misaki was blushing furiously, the younger man's expression was determined.

Akihiko reached up with his free hand and gently brushed across a tear-stained cheek with his thumb.

"Here… Right now?"

It was a stupid question, but all that he could utter at the moment in his shock.

Of course, it made a strange sort of sense too; Misaki had always been far more comfortable in the kitchen than he ever had in the bedroom. Even so, Akihiko was mildly stunned. While they had made great progress out on the balcony, he'd imagined it would be days, perhaps weeks or even longer before Misaki might be open to _that_ kind of intimate contact.

Misaki turned his head away. Gripping the edge of the sink tighter, he nodded. Never in his life had he imagined that he'd petition for this, at least not so openly. But he never thought he'd find himself consumed with such burning need either.

"Stupid, Usagi… Y-yes!" Misaki barked out, his voice hoarse with embarrassment. He didn't know what had come over him but he was desperate. He wanted to drown in Usagi-san filling him before he was pulled under by the sense of impending disaster that had him.

Misaki almost sobbed with relief when he felt Usagi-san's long fingers leave off their stirring strokes in a flash to fumble with the catch on his shorts.

The cool air of the suite caressed the skin of his thighs as his khakis slipped from bony hips before the zipper had even been pulled. A moment later, his briefs were slid down and his ass bared as well. Leaning over the counter, settling his weight on his forearms, Misaki groaned and pressed into the cool of Usagi-san's hands. However, he suddenly stiffened and began to panic when these same hands moved and began to pull up his shirt.

"Usagi-san… m-my…"

"Shhhh," The deep voice behind him soothed. "We'll keep the apron on you… Yes?" But I want… I _need_ to feel you, skin against skin…

Please, Misaki."

The desire held in Akihiko's low tones went straight to Misaki's core. He could feel his balls tighten and the tip of his dick was already pearling with want. Knowing that the apron would cover his abdomen, and that the scars on his back, while numerous, did not hold the cruel words Korovin had carved into the flesh of his front, reluctantly he acquiesced.

Besides, he was so hot at the moment, even the airy touch of his large shirt felt suffocating.

Misaki lifted his arms only long enough for Akihiko, with some skillful maneuvering, to get the garment off over his head without having to untie the apron. He was shocked at how erotic the feel of the slender strings were against his bare skin as they settled back into place.

He was struck too by the thought that he should have felt degraded, standing there, hands once again gripping the counter, his ass out, wearing the fetish costume of countless sordid Japanese fantasies; but he couldn't make the feeling stick. Korovin had dressed him up, posed him, soiled him, in ways so far beyond this. Being here with his dear Usagi-san, safe in their _New Days_ cocoon, what would have struck him as so decadent before, now seemed strangely pure.

This was as far as Misaki got in his thoughts before the feeling of "skin on skin" left his mind reeling. There was suddenly no room for anything in his brain beyond his rabbit's touch.

The moment Misaki's shirt was fully off and tossed to the side atop a stack of drying dishes, Akihiko had stripped off his own. His need to possess was ardent, and he was barely able to retain his newly acquired caution, so stirred by the fact that Misaki had allowed himself to be revealed in this way.

Embracing Misaki from behind, Akihiko's nipples tightened instantly at the brush of Misaki's naked back against his chest. He held his lover close for a long moment, trying to calm himself before he began kissing his way down Misaki's neck.

Akihiko was shocked by the heat of Misaki's skin; even his own mouth seemed cool in comparison. He wanted to pause and make sure his lover was feeling okay, but the muffled, desperate sounds escaping his boy at each brush of his lips made him fearful of stopping.

"Misaki…"

Murmuring his favorite mantra, his lips traced the path of still-too-visible spine downwards. Akihiko's large hands settled on Misaki's shoulders, fingers fanned out, thumbs meeting in the middle like a pair of pale wings.

"Usagi-san," Misaki gasped out. He allowed one of his hands to slip down and encircle his cock. A shudder ran through him as he swept his thumb over its red tip. He felt the slickness there. Opening his eyes, he peered downwards through his lengthening, dark bangs and saw a small puddle had formed on the tiles below him. His dick had never wept so hard before.

While he'd intended to stroke himself, Misaki found a sudden change in tactics required. As the cool palms soothing his shoulders feathered down, following the warm, wet trail of Usagi-san's mouth, Misaki gripped his cock hard at the base to keep from coming undone, just from the feeling of his lover's caresses alone.

Behind him Akihiko slipped down to his knees. Misaki trembled at the feeling of large palms cupping his ass, spreading his cheeks. Akihiko nipped sensually down past his hips, his tailbone, his…

"Usagi-san!"

Akihiko's mouth on _that_ place for the second time that day, the spot where he'd been most defiled, sent a burst of flame searing up Misaki's spine. He felt soft lips kiss the delicate rim of him.

Akihiko extended the tip of his tongue and traced the rouged ring of Misaki's entrance. He tasted light traces of soap from the shower his lover had taken after they'd woken, but what he really wanted was to taste Misaki. Strong hands kneaded his boy's ass before he gripped tight cheeks harder and spread them apart. He licked, thrilling at the feel of Misaki pulsing beneath his tongue. Pressing in, he invited his blossom to open.

"U-Usagi-san!"

From above him, Akihiko could hear the urgency in his boy's voice. He pulled back and kissed one of Misaki's cheeks. He hummed happily into his lover's heated skin before slicking his tongue back to the quivering entrance. One of Akihiko's hands shifted and took hold of Misaki's tight sac. He fondled this, pulling it lightly as his tongue sought entry again.

The next time Misaki called out his name, he said it so softly Akihiko barely heard it. But there was no doubt in his sharp ears the next whispered word that fell from his blossom's kissed-bruised lips:

"More."

Pale eyes darted up, seeking, and he located what he wanted. Misaki whimpered softly at the loss of contact when Akihiko pulled back. The author's low voice soothed with hushed promises as he reached out a lean arm and grabbed a bottle of olive oil from where it sat on the counter.

Skillfully, Akihiko flicked the top and allowed the light, amber oil to drip down, starting at the top of Misaki's ass crack. More oil was added to his finger, and seconds later his fingertip circled and slowly pressed in.

There was a moment of tension in both men as they waited to see how Misaki would respond to this breaching.

The urge to cum that had been building waned as Misaki was gripped with a fleeting unease. But he reminded himself this was his dear rabbit, and Usagi-san was being so gentle with him: the touch was like none Korovin had ever bestowed.

Drawing a deep, shaky breath, Misaki counted out his exhale slowly, all the while begging his body to relax.

Akihiko's heart raced as he entered Misaki. He paused, feeling the boy tighten around his finger.

When Misaki finally loosened, he growled sweet words of praise and began to gently slide only the first part of his index finger in. As he did, he continued to hold the anointing bottle of oil above in his other hand. Its slow drips added slick to his now pulsing finger ensuring that Misaki's insides were coated thoroughly.

For a brief moment, Akihiko found his mind drifting to darker spaces. In the soft light of the kitchen, when he had kissed Misaki's most intimate place, he had seen it was scarred even here. He should have expected to find this and he knew it: all of Korovin's victims had seen severe damage here. Many, including Misaki, had required surgical attendance, a few needing more than one surgery.

As his finger rhythmically probed his sweet blossom, Akihiko was aware that his fingertip was mapping Misaki's insides as well, feeling for anything that might cause him pain if they went further. He kept his ears attuned to his lover's labored breaths.

"Anytime you need me to stop, Misaki…"

"No!" Misaki growled, his normally light voice heavy with need. "Please, Usagi-san…"

Misaki felt his erection revive as Akihiko probed deeper, his finger finding the gland that brought so much pleasure. Even though he felt incredibly lewd, Misaki couldn't help himself and pushed back, his hips moving to create more friction.

Tension mounted in his low belly and his ecstasy built quickly. Misaki's mouth fell open as he forced aside everything but this instant and gave into abandon. Head bowed, spittle dripped from his gasping jaw, adding to the precum-slick on his cock. Taut and stiff once more, Misaki forsook any further attempt at restraint. He began stroking himself and in less than a minute gave a stifled cry as he came hard into his hand.

Akihiko had felt his own dick pumping thicker with each ecstatic noise his boy made. A smile of satisfaction settled on his features when Misaki rasped out and he felt him shudder to his climax. Once his lover had ceased trembling, Akihiko rose. He grimaced lightly at the ache in his knees from kneeling.

Quickly he unbuttoned his slacks and slipped out of these and his boxers. Freed from its constraint, his dick jutted eagerly up, its taut skin dark with desire. Slowly he stepped up closer, encircling Misaki in his arms again, careful of his boy's nipples, knowing how sensitive Misaki was after coming.

Large hands palmed Misaki's slick, heaving chest. Akihiko leaned his head over the apron-clad shoulder. "Misaki, I love you."

Beneath him, he could feel Misaki's racing heart begin to pound faster. He pressed his hard torso closer against salty skin. His anxious cock slipped into the groove of Misaki's cleft.

"I want you, Misaki."

Instinctively Akihiko's hips began to pulse; his cock slid back and forth, up and down the oiled crack of Misaki's ass. He stopped short, when his words pulled a quiet sob from the boy beneath him.

"Misaki?"

Akihiko's ears strained to hear above his panting breath. He couldn't make out what Misaki said. Then his beloved repeated his words just a bit louder.

"Take me… Please, Usagi-san."

Akihiko leaned his head down and rained light kisses on sweat-dewed shoulders.

"My sweet, Misaki…" He released Misaki to lean down and grab the bottle of olive oil from where he'd left it sitting on the floor. A low growl burned in his throat as he further slicked his already glistening cock .

Misaki moaned in response when the oiled tip of his rabbit's dick rubbed up against his waiting hole. Akihiko paused, looking at the bending body below him. Misaki's head was down, his lean sides heaving: it was a vision simultaneously beautiful and heartbreaking.

He ceased in his hesitation when Misaki whimpered with impatience. Holding his cock firmly in hand Akihiko moved forward.

The low whine in Misaki's throat turned into a groan. He felt himself redden at the animalistic sounds he was making, but he couldn't control himself: he wanted this so much. He embarrassed himself further by shifting his hips again, driving Usagi-san's shaft deeper into him when the man paused to allow him to adjust.

If Akihiko thought Misaki's body was hot on the outside, it was nothing compared to the molten silk of his boy's interior.

"Misaki…"

Akihiko's voice was so hoarse with pleasure, his beloved's name was barely recognizable. Sunk into Misaki to the hilt, at last, Akihiko began to pump his cock in slow shallow thrusts. He was surprised not only at how relaxed Misaki stayed when he took up this motion, but even more, his normally reticent lover was soon rocking back with each jolt to greet him, taking him deeper.

Together they moved, each meeting the other, their breath adopting a rough cadence as their passion built along with their pace.

Akihiko's hands had Misaki's hips, holding him fast as he pumped. Soon however, one slipped around the front, finding, to his delight, that Misaki was filling again already. Long fingers curled around the thickening shaft. Akihiko smiled into the skin of Misaki's drenched nape when his boy's light fingers settled atop his.

As he continued to move, Akihiko felt his breath growing more labored; his stressed lungs began to burn with exertion. Copious amounts of fluid leaked between the fingers holding Misaki's cock and his boy clenched around him, orgasming internally from the rub of cock against prostate.

Thrilled with Misaki's responsiveness, Akihiko kept on and soon Misaki cried out and shuddered again as he crested another peak of pleasure. Akihiko continued to move, but as the minutes built, an anxiety he had never experienced before filled him. He could hear Misaki panting below, feel the boy's tense and trembling body. Akihiko didn't know how much more Misaki would be able to take and he realized that for as long as he had been thrusting, he was still nowhere near coming.

In his confusion at this, he stilled. Akihiko felt his face take on a rare blush.

"Misaki… I'm pulling out…"

It took Misaki a moment to comprehend what Usagi-san was saying. His third orgasm had crashed over him like a white wave and he still hadn't fully come to his senses. He grunted at the feel of Usagi-san's cock leaving him. After at last feeling so filled, the sudden emptiness left him lost.

Misaki turned around slowly, afraid to meet his older lover's eyes.

"Usagi-s-san… Are you o-okay?"

Looking up, Misaki watched Akihiko run long fingers through silvered bangs. He was hit by a bolt of worry: Usagi-san looked strangely chagrined.

"I'm fine, Misaki. Or… well…" Akihiko rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I don't know if I will be able to cum this time… Not this way."

It took a moment for Misaki to understand. In all the time they had been together, Usagi-san's mastery of himself had been unquestionable; his ability to sustain or release had never been an issue.

Wanting to help, Misaki stepped up, reaching out with trembling fingers to take Usagi-san's still-hard cock in his hand only to have Akihiko stop him. The bottom dropped out of Misaki's stomach and the heavy-sweetness of release that had weighted his bones took flight.

"D-did I do something w-wrong, Usagi-san?"

A new thought came to Misaki and he bit back a sob, feeling his eyes well. "Is it because _he _had me?"

In an instant cool hands were cupping his chin, raising it up. Before he could protest or turn his face away, his mouth was caught in a breathtaking kiss. The kiss went on to shatter into a hundred other smaller kisses as lips anointed every inch of his anguished face.

"No, Misaki… Never…" Akihiko's voice was as frantic as his lips. "Never!"

"He never had you… Your heart… You are mine alone!" The hands left Misaki's chin, pulling him into a crushing embrace.

Usagi-san's words touched a deep place in Misaki, but it wasn't enough. If what he said was true, than Misaki had to know what was wrong: he couldn't be with Usagi-san if he couldn't also bring his lover pleasure. He set his hands against Akihiko's chest and pushed back, hard.

"Then what? Tell me Usagi-san… I… I want… I _need_ for you to feel good too!"

Never had Akihiko considered that when this moment between them came, it would be_ he_ and not Misaki who was truly unready for the encounter. A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He shook his head in awe once again how remarkable his young lover was.

"Misaki…"

This time it was Misaki who stepped in, wrapping his arms around Akihiko. He buried his face into the strong chest and murmured into the scar over his rabbit's heart. "I love you."

"And I you, Misaki…"

Misaki held his embrace, even as he felt Usagi-san begin to move them. He allowed his body to follow and together they drifted out of the kitchen as is in a dance. Letting himself be guided, Misaki didn't raise his head until he felt the edge of their bed frame brush against the back of his legs. Without offering any protest he was maneuvered down until he was lying on his back amidst the soft, clean linens.

He felt his thighs parted and Akihiko move in between them. A moment later Usagi-san was lying lightly atop him. He opened himself up to tender seeking kisses. Tears escaped tightly clenched eyes to roll down Misaki's cheeks.

"Tell me what to do…," his whispered plea was desperate. "P-please, Usagi-san."

A warm breath ghosted over his cheek as Akihiko pleaded back. "Open your eyes, Misaki."

Green eyes opened slowly to meet a violet gaze so filled with love it threatened to break his heart.

"Look at me Misaki, please don't look away."

Through his tears Misaki nodded. He bit down on his bottom lip, not even aware he was doing so until Akihiko leaned in and teased it out from between his teeth with a sucking kiss. Misaki's gaze slipped and for a moment it darted down, watching, as above him Akihiko stroked himself quickly back to full hardness. Wide green eyes followed the rigid length of his lover's cock until its tip kissed his entrance. At this touch he looked back up.

The two lovers' gazes met and melded in the heat held between them. Misaki's lids dropped for only an instant when Akihiko entered him. They popped back open quickly and he was stunned by the smile that greeted him.

"Misaki…"

_The way that Usagi-san says my name…_ _with that face…_

Misaki reached up and his hands caught the back of Akihiko's neck pulling him down into a kiss. Their mouths stayed married even as Akihiko began to move again. Despite being filled with Usagi-san's tongue and his cock, Misaki fought to keep his eyes wide, his soul accepting likewise the penetration of Usagi-san's intense violet gaze.

It didn't take long like this, however, with his boy lying so open beneath him, for Akihiko to ascend. He kept his gaze locked with Misaki's as long as he could, not wanting to miss a single second. Bracing himself up on one lean arm, Akihiko's other hand slid over Misaki's slick skin. Encountering his boy's cock lying full and weeping upon the teen's flat belly, he grasped it and began to stroke in time with his own increasingly rapid thrusts.

Both men's eyes closed as their climax rushed in upon them. Misaki's seed spilled out, coating his belly. He was still shuddering when felt his lover begin to pull out of him again, but this time he caught Akihiko's hips with his heels and tightened his grip around his rabbit strong neck, holding him.

Akihiko's eye flickered open in surprise.

"Please, Usagi-san… come inside me," Misaki gasped out: he needed this anointing.

The expression in Misaki's eyes alone would have pushed Akihiko over the edge. In an instant, with a final thrust, Akihiko roared possessively, re-claiming Misaki completely as he exploded inside the hot, wet passage that held him. The force of this jarred loose sobs from Misaki's hidden shelves. Misaki gripped Akihiko tighter. He wept at the feeling of Usagi-san filling him, each jet of his lover's essence inside him washing away the black residue Korovin had left behind.

Moments after he came, Akihiko collapsed down upon the smaller body beneath him, shuddering as Misaki stroked his trembling shoulders. They lay together that way for several minutes, both panting heavily, exhausted.

"Misaki…"

Akihiko's shaking didn't subside and soon Misaki felt a new wetness against the cooling skin of his neck. He realized in an instant that Usagi-san was in the grips of another, different, release.

His damaged hand moved, stroking through damp silver as he clung to Akihiko, feeling his older lover begin to silently sob against him. Usagi-san had been so strong for him, but at last... A small smile quirked Misaki's lips. He had invited Usagi-san in, but it was Akihiko who had truly been penetrated. He closed weary eyes as he felt Usagi-san finally still, then slip out of him only to gather him closer.

Turning his head to the side, amidst the white sheets surrounding him, Misaki suddenly found himself thinking about street lights and snowfall. That past white night they had first shared their tears together had been one beginning for them.

This night was another.

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>Into the Light: Teaser<strong>

**Chapter One: Flight  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Misaki opened his eyes slowly, blinking. He'd been jarred from sleep by a <em>bump<em>. Not that he was disappointed to be roused, his dreams had been disturbing as usual.

It took him a moment to recall where he was and he blushed when he realized he was currently stretched across the length of two wide, plush seats. One of these seats also held Usagi-san, who he'd apparently been using as a pillow.

Feeling Misaki stir, Akihiko looked down from the book he'd been reading. He set the book face down on the seat across the aisle so he could reach down and brush the damp bangs back from Misaki's forehead.

Misaki was grateful that Usagi-san didn't verbalize the question his solemn face asked.

"I'm fine," he lied. "Feeling much better."

He winced as feelings of nausea contested this, however, quickly returning to him with his consciousness.

The cocked brow he received in response let him know that Akihiko wasn't buying it. Even so, Misaki was grateful he'd somehow been able to hide how sick he'd been feeling for the last week from Usagi-san until they'd gotten on the plane and into the air.

It had helped that Usagi-san had been so busy with all the travel arrangements for getting them back to Japan. Otherwise, Misaki had feared that between Usagi-san and his doctors, he would have been made to remain at New Days for even longer.

Realizing Akihiko was staring at him; Misaki frowned and closed his eyes against the intensity of his lover's violet gaze. He allowed the cool fingers to continue smoothing his brow: it was soothing.

"How much longer until we get there?"

Akihiko was worried, but his lips quirked into a slight smile at the question. He was pleased Misaki was so anxious to get home. However, he wondered if Misaki yet understood the true extent of what they'd be facing once they got to Tokyo; although they'd had a taste of it leaving the center.

Recalling the throngs of reporters that crowded around the limo as they pulled out of _New Days_ to head to the airport, Akihiko grimaced. The events with Korovin had catapulted them into a dark kind of international stardom: everyone wanted to see and hear from those who'd survived.

Their trip to the airstrip had been slow going as cars followed alongside them, honking. Several helicopters, too, had circled above them on the drive to tarmac: paparazzi with high powered lenses hoping to get a shot of he and Misaki behind the limo's tinted glass.

He'd even had to have one of the flight attendants removed from the private Usami jet that had been sent from Japan to retrieve them, when he'd caught her trying to sneak pics with her phone of Misaki, curled up asleep, in his chair.

_Thank Kami-sama we were still on the ground. I'm going to have the ass of whoever it was that let that bitch on this plane._

Snapping himself away from his dark thoughts, Akihiko answered at last. "We've been in the air just over ten hours so we have another ten, maybe eleven hours or so… Why?"

"Just wondering…" Misaki murmured sleepily.

Looking down at his boy, Akihiko felt a new wave of worry wash over him. He had agreed to let the doctors give Misaki a potent tranquilizer before leaving the center. Given how Misaki was with new spaces, even within _New Days_, despite the months they'd been there, this measure had made sense.

Akihiko knew Misaki had been terribly anxious about leaving. For the last week, in fact, the boy had been elusive and withdrawn. A pang of guilt pierced him that he hadn't been more available, but there had been so much to arrange before they left. Not only that, but he'd been advised of late that his hovering wasn't helping Misaki's recovery.

_Fuck that, I'll hover if I want._

Akihiko looked down at his beloved. Misaki seemed to be sleeping again and he exhaled a soft sigh of relief. The doctors had promised there would be no side-effects to the tranquilizer, other than Misaki sleeping initially, and then maybe feeling a bit groggy later as the drug wore off. Given this, he had never anticipated that Misaki would have such a violent reaction; throwing up three times once they'd boarded the plane within the span of a few hours before finally drifting off into a fitful sleep. If he'd known, he would have never allowed them to give it to him.

Suddenly Misaki bolted upright.

"Misaki?!"

"Bag!" Misaki rasped out, his face pale, forehead beaded with sweat.

Before Akihiko could call out, the remaining flight attendant was there, holding a plastic bag for Misaki to vomit into. Guaranteed by the fees she earned from Usami Corps for her services, her pretty, painted face remained a mask of serenity even as Misaki retched.

"Enough of this!"

Akihiko stood up and strode through the curtain separating the front quarters from the back of the jet where their personal Usami Corps' physician sat, along with one of the Usami lawyers, a publicist, and a team of mixed security professionals.

The Doctor looked up from his laptop where he was playing solitaire. "Mr. Usami."

"He's sick again. You said it wasn't the drugs, so what's going on?"

Used to attending demanding clients, Dr. Pena stood up and headed toward the front of the plane. When he and Akihiko had arrived at Misaki's seat, the flight attendant had already dealt with the mess. They found Misaki sitting relatively upright, a cool damp cloth on the back of his neck and a ginger ale clasped in one hand.

Weary eyes opened and Misaki stiffened at the sight of the doctor. Pena was relatively new to him and so, made him uneasy. He relaxed only slightly at the sight of Usagi-san standing behind the physician. It didn't help his anxiety that even though Akihiko looked composed, by the dark shade of Usagi-san's eyes he could tell that his Rabbit was angry about something.

Dr. Pena stepped closer and leaned down slightly. "Mr. Usami says you were sick again, Mr. Takahashi?"

Misaki felt his cheeks get hot. He looked nervously at Akihiko and then nodded.

"You told me what it was you'd eaten before, and given the source of your food there at New Days, food poisoning seems unlikely. And I understand you've never had an issue with flying before either. Right?"

Pena reached over to press his hand to Misaki's forehead but moved a little too quickly. He realized his mistake seeing him shrink back as Akihiko bristled forward.

"I'm just going to check your temperature, Mr. Takahashi… Please relax," Pena soothed. The moment his hand brushed against Misaki's skin he frowned: the boy was searing.

He looked over at Akihiko. "Well, I think we have our culprit. He wasn't running a fever before but he has one now. I was told he gets these frequently."

Akihiko frowned. "Never like this! They don't make him vomit!"

Despite the sharp tone in Usami's voice, Pena remained nonplussed. "Then it's likely a twenty-four hour bug. He should be over it by the time we land and hopefully no one else in this closed air system comes down with it."

"Please, make some ice packs up for Mr. Takahashi." Pena nodded to the attendant, who immediately headed back into the cabin's kitchen area to comply. "I'll go back to my things and get him some fever reducers. These measures and keeping him hydrated are the best we can do until we land."

As soon as Dr. Pena moved off to retrieve the medicine Misaki looked up at Akihiko with anxious eyes. His fever-flushed face grew pinker.

"I'm s-sorry, Usagi-san… I don't m-mean to m-make problems."

The shake in Misaki's voice made Akihiko's heart clench. It was not a good sign when Misaki began to stutter. He tried to remind himself that the doctors at _New Days_ had warned him about how difficult this would be. They had all been fearful that he and Misaki were leaving too soon. So much damage had been done.

His mind went immediately to one of the other boys who had left _New Days_ weeks before against the staff's warning. He'd committed suicide shortly thereafter.

_But then he wasn't Misaki, and he didn't have someone like me beside him…_

Stepping over, Akihiko leaned down and pressed a kiss to Misaki's forehead. Though he was shocked at how hot his boy's skin was he kept his voice even.

"You will never be a problem, Misaki."

Before Misaki could protest, the attendant returned with the ice. Akihiko helped him up while he had her pull the double seats out to form a much more comfortable bed. Blankets arranged, Akihiko retrieved Suzuki-san from his single seat and set him up at the head of Misaki's new nest as both guardian and pillow.

If it wasn't for the tranquilizers in his veins and the fever in his head, Misaki would have been more reluctant, but given his present state he allowed Usagi-san to get him settled, all but tucking him in. He sighed, sinking into Suzuki-san's comforting plush as Akihiko placed an icepack behind his neck and one at his crown.

"I can't believe Aikawa-san found Suzuki-san for you, Usagi-san." Misaki's voice was heavy with sleep but sounded happy.

"Yes," Akihiko hummed as he took a new seat across from Misaki where he could keep an eye on him.

Suzuki-san, rather than be a comfort, had become a non-entity when Misaki was taken. Given this, he'd left his previously treasured bear behind with quite a number of other things at the Garopaba flat when they'd ended up taking such sudden residence at _New Days. _When the case broke, unscrupulous celebrity treasure hunters had broken in and taken most everything.

His amazing editor had taken it upon herself to embark on another search and recovery mission and, with Santo Justino's help, they had somehow tracked the bear down. Aikawa's reasoning for this effort was that Misaki would need a friendly face when he returned to Japan, one that wasn't her author's.

Akihiko winced lightly at his neglect and its result, as Suzuki-san regarded him with an accusatory stare from across the aisle.

"_I'll make it up to you, I promise, Old Friend."_

The shuffle of feet on the carpet drew his attention away from things he could do to win back Suzuki-san's favor: Dr. Pena had returned with Misaki's pills.

"I'll give them to him."

Akihiko rose and held out his hand. Misaki was already drifting and he didn't want him disturbed. Pena's face darkened at this, but rather than retort he merely dropped the two capsules in to the outstretched palm.

"Give him these and we'll see where's he's at in a few hours." Pena gruffed, before he retreated to the far end of the plane where the atmosphere was notably warmer.

After getting a bottle of water from the attendant, Akihiko moved back to his sleepy lover.

"Misaki…"

Kneeling beside him, Akihiko cracked the bottle and filled the back of his mouth with water. He placed the capsules on his tongue and leaned over, catching Misaki's mouth with his own as his blossom roused.

Sleepy green eyes widened, but Misaki accepted both the medicine and the kiss. When they parted, still half asleep he snorted. "Stupid, Usagi… Now you're going to get sick too."

A cool hand caressed Misaki's cheek. "No, I'm not. And by tomorrow you won't be sick anymore either."

A small pang on conviction prodded Misaki into fuller wakefulness at these words, knowing that he'd in fact been feeling this way for far longer than Usagi-san could imagine.

He watched Akihiko move back over across from him and sit down, book soon in hand again, waiting for him to nod off before he returned to his novel.

"Yeah, I'll feel better tomorrow, once we're home again." Misaki muttered this half outloud as he sank back down into Suzuki-san's soft lap, eyelids closing already. It was a promise he offered for both and Usagi-san and himself, not knowing that this was one promise he'd never be able to keep.

* * *

><p><strong>And that's that dear readers… the end of one tale and the beginning of another. All my fellow Egoists please forgive me for stealing that HirokiNowaki scene for "Into the Light."**

**At this moment, I want you to know I do intend to write "Into the Light" at some point, but please don't expect this anytime soon. I have so many other stories to finish, including the original "Uke Flu."**

**Of course feedback and comments are always much appreciated. Even if one has just joined this fic or comes into this story months from now I love hearing from you, like that dear anonymous reader who recently reviewed. It was her/him, Vegeta42, and Dragonish that got me back on the ball with their encouragement. **

**And now I bid you all adieu (for now) after listing, with special gratitude, all my reviewers...  
><strong>

**The Black Flamingo 101**

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**zemira**

**Thank you! You made this story come to life.  
><strong>

**Sincerely,**

**Cerberus**


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